Report
by Tilthanial
Summary: Two men on contract with the Inquisition find themselves fighting alongside a motley crew of Imperial Guardsmen and Space Marines as they fight to uncover the mystery behind the sudden defection of several Guard units on an agri-world.
1. Holding the Line

Mayhem reigned on the battlefield. I watched it quietly, not allowing the surging mass of bodies to distract me from my goal. Bullets sparked off the wall around me, punching deep holes into the rockcrete. I ignored it all. The bullets were directed at the Blood Raven Space Marines below me. The rogue Guardsmen had no way of knowing I was there. From my camouflaged position halfway back in the room, laid out on a table, I was invisible to the melee before me.

My spotter grunted in annoyance beside me. I took my eye off my scope, blinking to get my vision focused, and turned towards him.

"What, Adin, no show?"

Adin swore quietly as a tank shell spiraled through the air, striking the floor above us. The building shook threateningly, but held. It was a sturdy building. A single tank shell would not bother it.

"Can't see as much as a Commissar."

"That kind of follows… considering these guys are _traitors_. I can't exactly see a Commissar going along with that kind of thing. They're usually all gung-ho about the whole 'Emperor is Lord' business."

A low chuckle emanated from Adin's throat. He put his binoculars up and resumed scanning the field. We had very specific orders. Leave the bulk of the fighting to the Guard and the Blood Ravens. We were there to eliminate the command structure. I knew that the Blood Ravens would have disapproved of this, had they known it, but Colonel Mars was insistent. The Space Marines did not have to know. They had enough on their hands as it was.

"Oh, Officer-type. Near the tree-line, between two Russ tanks."

My eye snapped back to the scope and I started hunting. Starting straight ahead, I turned to the right and searched. There were a dozen Leman Russ tanks on the tree line. Only four were still firing. The remaining eight had been disabled or destroyed by a combination of the Blood Raven's Whirlwind and the loyal Guardsmen's squadron of Basilisks. As my gaze swept over the burning hulks a ninth tank exploded, struck square in the turret joint by a rocket strike. Its turret went spinning through the air, slamming into a tree trunk before smashing into the ground. I did not pause to watch. I had found my target, now scrambling off the ground after being knocked down by the shockwave. He was getting off his feet when I pulled the trigger. A brilliant, near-invisible plume of blood shot out the side of his head and he collapsed.

"Target down."

"Switch?"

I rolled off the table, allowing Adin to take my place. He handed me my bolter, grinning wickedly at the prospect of using the sniper rifle. As powerful as the bolter was, nothing shot up Adin's adrenaline like drilling an unsuspecting soldier through the skull from hundreds of yards away.

"Don't spare the ranks," Adin ordered as he settled in. I nodded and approached the window. Satisfied that the chaos of battle was too distracting, I peeked out. The field was littered with corpses wearing the muted grey of the 42nd Uthreme Guard. The Blood Ravens manned the low walls alongside loyal Guardsmen, towering over the men like angels of death. Torrential fire belched from their bolters, scything through the charging ranks of traitors with ease. The heavy weapon squads of the Guard matched their intensity, blowing holes through the attackers with lasers, bullets and shells. Behind them were Predators and Leman Russ tanks, pounding huge shells and laser beams into the screaming mob. A little extra fire could not hurt, I decided.

Returning to my position, I took the binoculars and began spitting out ranks as fast Adin fired. First a sergeant, then a brace of officers that appeared, then another sergeant. It happened quickly and easily. After each man fell I heard Adin muttering to himself, counting down the kills. He was on a warpath now. It happened quickly with him whenever he got behind the scope. I had a few minutes before he would start unleashing hell. Adin in rage was a terrifying sight. His most impressive kills came when he was fully absorbed in the shooting.

"Sergeant, near the mound. He's got a-"

A sudden bolt of lightning surged out of the advancing traitor ranks. The bolt arced through the sky, drawing the attention of a host of men, before exploding against the front armor of a Leman Russ. The tank rocked back on its treads, cannon firing aimlessly into the air. I gasped and began looking for the offender. It was a psyker. How a psyker had joined the traitors I could never guess, but he was there. Correction, _they_ were there. There were four of them, hidden behind a cluster of banners and a squad of stormtroopers. The presence of those men confounded me. What were sanctioned psykers and stormtroopers doing fighting on the side of the traitors? Those were some of the most loyal men in the entire Guard.

The words had barely left my lips when one of the psyker's heads exploded. The psykers stared in stunned horror for a moment, watching their comrade fall to the ground. Adin reloaded the rifle and fired without hesitation. A second psyker fell, a fist-sized hole in his chest. The rest panicked, diving for cover and fading into the mass of banners and stormtroopers.

"Leon?"

I did not respond. My eyes were glued to the binoculars, searching for a flash of the tan jackets that the psykers wore. It was impossible to see in the sudden writhing mass of bodies. After a second of fruitless search I snarled and gave him an order.

"Stormtroopers! Go for their cover!"

He obliged, dropping two before they could respond. By that time they had figured out the likely locations of our hiding spot. A flurry of hellgun fire sprayed across the building, blasting into windows with abandon. Adin continued firing, making two headshots in as many seconds. It was a marvelous sight to see him picking them apart like flies as they vainly tried to find us.

Then one of the Russ turrets turned in our direction. I saw it through the binoculars and shouted a warning. Adin did not hear it; he was too busy taking his fifth stormtrooper down with a bullet straight through the man's rifle. The explosion that followed ripped the man's facemask apart, flaying his skull open. It was a horrible screaming death.

The turret was aiming near us. Not at our window, but close. I dove for Adin, shoving the table with my shoulder a split second before it fired. The table was a solid wooden piece, that was why we had chosen it for the perch. Something in my shoulder cracked, but it lifted and Adin went tumbling to the ground, cursing in anger as his shot flew wide of the mark. I was still landing when the shell hit.

The floor buckled violently as the room below us was struck. Paintings and china fell from the walls, shattering all around us. A hellish heat wave washed over us, choking our lungs as the air crackled with energy. For a terrible second I thought the floor was going to explode.

"Leon!"

Adin's voice was hoarse and wracked with gasps. The dust kicked up by the blast left us nearly blind. I felt a groping hand touch my shoulder, and I grabbed it. He lifted me to my feet and stared at me. His armor was coated a ghostly shade from the dust.

"Are you ok?"

He screamed the question, hurting my ears. His eardrums must have burst, I realized. Nodding my heads yes, I leaned against the table and looked for my bolter. It was lying against a desk, nowhere near where I had dropped it. I staggered over to it and checked it for damage. It looked fine. That was good enough for me. Bolters were tough weapons, capable of withstanding quite a pounding.

"Where's the rifle?"

I turned back towards Adin, alarmed by his question. He was on his knees, searching the floor like a blind man. I scanned the floor for it. There was no sign of it. A nervous shudder coursed through my body. If it was lost… that was an expensive weapon.

"Found it!"

Adin stood slowly, cradling the precious rifle lovingly. I managed a weak smile and eyed the weapon fearfully. It was scraped and scratched all over, but it looked like it was still in one piece. Without asking, Adin went to the window, kneeled down, and took a shot. I was not sure what he was aiming at, but the satisfied grunt told me that it still worked. A sigh of relief passed through my lips. We were still in business.

"I can't find the psykers, or the stormtroopers," he announced after a long search. "They've disappeared."

"Let me see."

He handed me the sniper rifle and backed away, not wanting to draw attention to our window. He was the better shot, but I had better eyesight than him and was able to pick things out better. He was right. The remaining psykers and their retinue had disappeared. I searched the whole battlefield, skimming over the dwindling attacking force before checking the last of the traitor's Russ tanks. No psykers, but there was an officer sticking his head out of the Russ. I put a bullet into his temple and watched the body fall back into the tank with grim satisfaction.

"Time to relocate," I told Adin as the tank's turret began tracking in our direction again. He needed no second order. Pausing only to grab my bolter, he rushed from the room and aimed for the stairs. I followed close behind, keeping my eye on the tank. It was aiming straight for our window this time. I had picked a good time to leave.

The stairs were on the other side of the building, which meant that we were clear of the explosion by the time the shell whistled through the window and slammed into the back wall. I staggered forward as the wall exploded into the hallway, sending a mushroom of smoke and dust stretching through the building. A loud, pained creaking shivered through the building and the room began to collapse, falling down a story and ripping an ugly gash in the side of it. Adin grabbed my arm to steady me and we continued on, reaching the stairwell without incident.

Skating down the stairs, we reached the second floor landing in seconds. Adin turned to go farther down, started in alarm, and loosed a long burst down. I skidded to a stop behind him, slinging the sniper rifle over my shoulder instinctively. My hands dropped to the hell pistol and plasma pistol at my sides. I drew them in a flash and covered the stairs as he spun back out of the return fire. Sliding to a crouch, I cleared the railing and took aim.

There were a handful of traitor Guardsmen at the mid-level landing. Three were splayed out on the steps, their bodies riddled with holes. Four more were behind them, eyes burning feverishly with Chaotic light as they fired wildly into the air. Their helmet markings were scratched off, replaced with symbols of Khaine, the Bloody-Handed God. I shuddered for a moment, wondering how these men could have let their minds fall to the twisted seduction of Chaos, then fired. My first shots were dead on, striking one Guardsman in the chin, blowing out a good portion of his skull, and another in the thigh. The plasma round melted through his armor, burning the majority of his flesh to cinders in a second. His agonized scream grated in my ears as he tumbled to the ground, still pulling the trigger.

The remaining two lowered their weapons to fire at me, but Adin appeared over the railing, hurdling it with one hand for support. He fired a short burst, catching one of the two in the shoulder. The skin and bone evaporated under the hail of high explosive rounds , tossing his arm aside like a blade of grass in the wind. I focused on the last man, hitting him in the chest with both las and plasma fire. He was dead before my third shot hit him.

Adin finished off the wounded Guardsmen with his knife, ending their screams quickly and efficiently. When he stood up, he was grimacing.

"How'd they get in this far?" he shouted, his hearing still not recovered.

I shrugged and holstered my pistol. It was beyond me, but they must have breached a point in the line. The more important matter for me was the amount of ammunition Adin had expended. The bolter had a large clip, and I had plenty of extra magazines for it, but he had used a lot of ammunition on that cluster. Perhaps it was just a heat of battle moment, but that was a careless waste of pricy rounds. More often than not I had to go to the black market for bolter rounds. Those dealers were never cheap.

"Careful now," I mouthed, pointed down the stairs. He nodded in recognition and moved to the edge of the landing, peering down to the ground floor. After a moment he nodded, signaling the all clear. I passed him, stepping over the bloody bodies, and edged my way to the bottom. Keeping my back to the wall, I leaned out and searched the lobby. It was empty, but the glass of the front doors had clearly been shattered. Breathing slowly, I motioned for Adin to move out. He leapt to the bottom of the stairs and sprinted past me, sliding behind the front desk for cover. When no fire came, I stepped out and moved to the doors. Adin went to the other side, and we looked out at the battlefield.

The defensive line was holding for the most part, especially where the Blood Ravens stood. The main gate had been blown down, but a squad of fearsome Terminators held the ground, crushing the traitors with gigantic power claws and thunder hammers. There were two breaches in the line, and one was a furious melee as reserve infantry poured into the gap. As we watched a squad of Assault Marines soared through the sky, plowing into the mass like meteors. Bodies flew in all directions and the Space Marines began hacking through the traitors with their chainswords and bolt pistols.

The other breach was a different matter. Sentinels stalked across the open ground behind the wall, pouring las cannon fire into the hole in the wall as a never-ending tide of traitors poured through. A handful slipped through the barrage every few seconds, and they were met by a ranked platoon of conscripts. The conscripts fired in volleys, one line at a time, keeping a one second pause between each. Only a couple attackers survived the combined fire, and they threw themselves on the conscripts with screeching oaths to Khaine. Looking past the conscripts, I saw a few small melees scattered around the square. The conscripts and Sentinels must have just arrived, because a couple squads of traitor Guardsmen had reached as far as the Command Post. I raised my sniper rifle toward the CP, praying the Mars was not dead. He was an old friend, and I doubted any lasgun could bring him down.

The CP was a brutal scene, with Mars' command squad fighting hand-to-hand with a dozen traitors. I saw one raise a power axe, Emperor knows how he got that, and pumped the trigger. The powerful needle round struck him between the shoulders, ripping his spine neatly in half. His body collapsed to the dirt, where it lay twitching as the melee trampled it. The traitors did not notice the unexpected fall of their comrade, so I switched targets and brought another down, this time with a very loud and piercing shriek as the bullet tore though his knee. The traitors faltered, hearing one of their own in such agony. That bought Mars and the two priests standing beside him enough time to cut their numbers in half. Mars' Commissar finished off the last one with an expertly placed shot from his las pistol.

There was no time to savor the small victory, because a clutch of rebel Guardsmen slipped through a crack in the defenses and charged toward the building. Adin fired dangerously close to my head, sending me diving backwards. The bolter rounds cut through the traitors in a flash, dropping the front rank and savaging the second. By the time they reached the doors eight of the twelve men were dead.

The first man to storm the doors was met with a boot to the stomach as I lashed out from my position on my back. He staggered backwards, bent over in pain, and a second traitor took his place. Drawing my hell pistol, I shot the man in chest. His armor stopped the round, but sent him reeling back. That left an opening for Adin, who stepped out and mowed them both down without mercy. A third traitor reached the door, firing his lasgun into Adin's refractor field. I put two rounds into his gut and he fell motionless over the threshold. When Adin stopped firing I rolled back to my feet and looked out.

The battle seemed to be dying down, because no more traitor Guardsmen were coming through the gaps. The Terminators stood motionless by the gate, brandishing their bloodied weapons with little concern for the las fire that plinked off their shields. The ground around them was littered with corpses, but not a one of them had fallen. Looking to the wall, I saw that the same was not the case with their lesser armored brothers. Three hulking red bodies lay stretched out across the length of the wall. Two wore jump packs, and were slumped side-by-side in the larger gap that they had leapt into.

Stepping out into the sun, I holstered my pistol and began walking towards the wall. The Conscript platoon, standing idle but at the ready, stared at me and Adin as we walked. Their curiosity was understood. Adin and I were wearing our old Kasrkin armor, painted a dark green and brown that stood out glaringly from the plain grey of the Guardsmen. The sniper rifle and bolter added to the dissimilarities, drawing the eyes of several men on the walls too. Between the two of us though, Adin drew more attention. He still had his helmet, I had lost mine in a campaign long ago, and the bolter made him look like a miniature Space Marine to the naïve conscripts. I could see the questions brimming in their eyes as we strode past them towards the point on the wall where one of the Commissar's was.

"Ah, the Kasrkin's are still alive" Montross' booming voice cut through the after-battle hubbub like a knife. It took me a moment before finding his imposing figure come stomping through the crowd. I studied his uniform carefully. The bottom of his full-body jacket was soaked darkly with blood and his powerfist had a shiny gleam in the fading sunlight. Montross watched me for a moment in silence before grinning mirthlessly and extending his unencumbered hand. I shook it warmly, allowing a slight grin to etch my features.

"Despite their tank gunner's best efforts, yes. We did our part."

Montross huffed and gestured out over the battlefield. "I take it you were the one who silenced those cursed psykers."

I nodded slowly, jerking my thumb towards Adin. "He got two of them." Lowering my voice so the others could not hear, I whispered. "There's at least two more out there, plus a squad or so of stormtroopers. Adin was working on them when the Russ started pounding our position."

"Ah." Montross nodded knowingly and leaned his head away, a false confident smile on his face. His eyes sparkled with intelligence as he digested the information, but he kept his countenance strict. That was what I loved about Commissars, when they were not executing their own troops to improve morale. They knew how to keep a secret, and how to keep their composure.

"They won't be coming back for a while," he announced loudly, for the benefit of the troops. "We showed them the strength of those who remain true to the Emperor. No traitors can withstand the True Emperor!"

The men cheered. They were flushed with excitement after the battle, and were fired up for more. I counted the number of casualties and raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You didn't lose many" I noted, indicating the medics as they dragged the fallen off the wall. I could count the dead with one hand. Coming from a company-sized detachment fresh off of a battle, it was practically nothing.

"The Adeptus Astartes provided support." A hint of humility managed to slip through his show of bravado. I followed his gaze to where a squad of Devastators stood farther down the line. Two held heavy bolters, faint wisps of smoke still clinging to the barrels. "Their fire saved many lives."

"Don't they always," I muttered quietly. "They took some casualties here."

"A few, yes. But they are not immortal." The Commissar dismissed the comment with little apparent concern. "Just nearly so. What news from the Command Post? I saw that some traitors broke through our lines."

"Just a few." I leaned against the wall and rolled my neck, enjoying the cracking as the joints popped. "The Sentinels and a Whiteshield platoon held them from getting far. A dozen reached the CP, but they didn't do anything."

"Ah, yes, the 5th Training Company." Montross' gaze settled on the conscripts, who were now sitting down or milling about under the watchful eye of their sergeant. "So they have found their first taste of blood. They are taking it well."

"As long as they aren't bawling their eyes out…"

A passing trooper stumbled, and I shot out a hand to catch him. My eyes flitted over his body, looking for the source of the trip. His left leg was bandaged, but the linen was stained darkly. Before the soldier could protest I pushed off the wall and sat him down.

"Don't walk on that, soldier. It'll only get worse. Give it some rest until the medics can get you something."

The man started to protest reflexively, but seeing the Commissar standing beside me, wisely shut his mouth. He set his lasgun on the ground beside him and inched back to use the wall as support. Montross nodded approvingly.

"That's good advice, soldier. You are not going to heal quickly if you aggravate it."

The soldier nodded and thanked me, stunned by the Commissar's unusually gentle words. Montross allowed a faint smile and turned away quickly, not letting the men see it. I stepped away from the wall so that his facing would not raise suspicion.

"A kind, but unnecessary act" he muttered.

I said nothing, but grinned fiendishly. One of the things that I had learned to love about this unit was that its officers were quality men. Whereas most Commissars were unforgivably brutal and the leaders aloof, this Regiment had a handful that truly inspired their men. Mars and Montross were perfect examples of this. Mars led by daredevil charisma, fighting to the front and never allowing his men to be meaninglessly slaughtered. Montross led with biting humor and clipped precision coupled with an ironclad spirit. As far as I knew, he had never had to execute a deserter in his entire stint as a Commissar, a remarkable feat.

Montross glanced past my shoulder and his body language tensed. I turned my head slowly to see what made him react so. A helmetless Space Marine was marching towards us, wielding a heavy bolter with ease. I swallowed hard as his booted feet crunched through the loose rockcrete. I was a little over average height for normal men, and he towered over me. Despite my many years in the military, I still marveled at the might of the inhuman Space Marines.

"What can I do for you, Avitus?"

Montross faced the imposing figure without a hint of trepidation. Standing comfortably with his powerfist at his side, he stared up at the dark scowl with a confident air. I backed up a foot to give them a clear line of sight, bobbing my head in deference.

"Your unit held the line. That is good."

"The loyal soldiers of the 42nd Uthreme Guard are more than a match for these traitors" Montross spat, directing the venom at a fallen traitor's corpse on the far side of the wall. The soldier had made it as far as the wall, then a crushing blow from Montross' powerfist had obliterated his face. Avitus' eyes flicked to the body and back. He was not impressed.

"My Commander is sending out a scouting party to track the traitor's as they fall back. It is his wish that you pick a handful of skilled trackers to accompany them. We will find use for them, I am sure."

Montross' eyes hardened just a touch. The implied meaning was clear. The Blood Ravens wanted extra bodies to draw fire when, not _if_, they engaged the enemy. That's all that the Guardsmen were useful for, in their eyes. Human shields. I did not bother hiding a disgusted snort. The noise drew Avistus' attention like a dying animal drew a vulture. His piercing eyes studied my armor and face before he turned to Montross.

"I do not recall hearing about the arrival of Kasrkin troopers to this fight."

Montross did not bat an eye. He took a calm breath and explained my presence to the irritated Space Marine in a clear, precise tone.

"This is Leon and his comrade, Adin. They are freelance mercenaries, former Kasrkin and members of the Ordo Malleus."

"_Former_ members." Avitus repeated the two words with a slight tilt in his voice, having noticed the way they were connected. His eyebrows narrowed questioningly. "And how is that?"

"My unit was requisitioned by Inquisitor Verne. He was slain along with the rest of our unit fighting a Chaos cult that succeeded in summoning a greater Daemon."

"And you left the service? I do not see the Ordo Malleus granting such amnesty."

I shook my head, letting the jab pass. "We were honorably discharged for our part in the operation. A Deathwatch Chaplain declared us unfit for further duty."

"Yet you are here, fighting on the frontline."

Adin stepped up, answering for me. "We were declared unfit for duty, yes, but that is not why we were discharged. During the battle, Leon was struck by a warp blast from the demon. The blow triggered a dormant Pariah gene. He's a Blank."

I winced inwardly. That bit of information was one that I preferred kept under wraps. The Pariah gene drew suspicion and danger at every turn. The bulky Space Marine regarded me with renewed interest, but his expression did not change. The wondering accusation was still there. I got that a lot. Being a one-in-a-million case brought nervous attention all the time.

"If that is so, why did the Ordo Malleus not keep him? A Pariah is a valuable tool in fighting Chaos."

"Apparently I am unlucky for them." I pulled a wry smile and tapped the side of my head. "They said something about being too distracting… and unstable."

"Really?"

"They let us go with a Xenos Mandate," Adin added. "They hire us as mercenaries, but only in short increments. While we are on our own we hire out to whoever wants us."

"Providing they are Emperor-fearing souls," I cut in, forestalling a comment that Avitus was undoubtedly going to make. "And never for xenos, not that they'd want us anyways."

That seemed to satisfy the Space Marine. That, or he received a call from another Blood Raven, because he abruptly spun on his heel and returned to his men, not bothering to say goodbye. Montross stared after him, eyeing the power armor with undisguised envy.

"The things you can do with a squad of those," he mumbled to himself. "Just think of it."

"Aye, and they don't wear helmets. That's just asking for a sniper to give them one in the eye."

I shot Adin a sidelong glance, half-smiling at his words. He hefted the bolter meaningfully and slapped the barrel. Seeing Montross' questioning gaze, he retracted his words.

"Never a loyalist, Commissar. Just a couple Chaos scumbags."

Montross nodded after a moment of silence and looked back to his men.

"If you will excuse me, I have a squad of corpses… scouts to volunteer. Good evening, gentlemen."

Montross inclined his head in a nominal salute and whipped around, switching to his Commissar attitude in seconds. He bellowed for the platoon leaders and sergeants, summoning them out of the air like magic. I watched for a moment, remembering the time that I had been a simple sergeant, leaping to the command of my officer, then turned away. Adin read the nostalgic gleam in my eyes and slapped my shoulder reassuringly. Life had been much simpler, even a little safer, then. At least we had a whole company of like minds then. Not it was just the two of us.

"Want to go see Colonel Mars?" His question startled me. The first thing on my mind was a shower and a hot meal, if that was available. We could go see Colonel Mars in the morning. He would be busy right now, checking on his lines and making adjustments as necessary.

"What for?" Adin was already moving, so I shook off my surprise and followed, loping after him in easy strides.

"To go join that scouting party, obviously."

His enthusiasm could not be masked by his inflection-killing helmet. I suppressed a sigh. Sometimes he had too much energy. Quirky did not begin to describe him. Not only was he as energetic as a caffed battle priest, but he was a ladies' man too. 'Too distracting?' Try 'he kept bedding every female in the unit.' There was something about him that just fired up the women in the Inquisitor teams. The _normal_ women, that is.

We strode into the Command Post expecting a chaotic flurry of activity. The opposite was the case, it was quite calm and collected. Orderlies came in and out, delivering messages and reports. Colonel Mars was in his tent, with the battalion Commissar, the two Priests, and the Blood Ravens commander. After being let in by the guards, I delivered my respects to the officers and stood to the side, waiting for them to call my name.

While I waited I studied the Space Marine. He was the usual superhuman mass of genetically enhanced soldier that was expected of Space Marines. His face was angled sharply, with a hawkish nose and deep set, vibrant green eyes. The top of his head was covered in an ashen military cut with long sideburns. The tips of the hair glistened as if he had put gel on them to retain their shape. A vain choice for a Space Marine. He had the ubiquitous chainsword sheathed at his side and a large bolt pistol in his hand. I studied the weapon carefully, searching for unique markings. Nothing special showed.

I was disappointed at that. Some of the Space Marines I had met in my time with the Ordo Malleus had owned some impressively crafted weapons. Maybe this was a new leader or something. Perhaps he had not earned the right to gain personal weapons yet. Who knew, when the Space Marines were concerned. I was perfectly happy to let their ways remain mysterious so long as they continued to inflict punishing damage on the twisted forces of evil xenos and Chaos that threatened the Imperium.

Colonel Mars and the Blood Ravens commander were discussing the next step in this campaign against the traitor Guardsmen. Mars was advocating for bringing in the second battalion, which was currently occupying the capital cities. The fourth battalion in the regiment was holding the other border forts and towns. It appeared to be Mars' hope to launch a blitz on the reeling traitors, dominating them before they could recover. The Space Marine was urging a more cautious approach. He wanted a careful reconnaissance followed by harassing raids. His plan was to lure the leadership of the rebellion into the open, where they could be discovered and destroyed. A good enough plan, as far as I was concerned. They both had their merits.

It struck me as odd though, seeing the Space Marine advising caution while the Imperial Guard officer recommended immediate and brutal action. Then again, Mars was fighting for his home planet, and with every heretical uprising came the looming threat of a potential _Exterminatus_. It was in Mars' best interest to contain and eradicate the rebellion before his planet itself was eradicated. The horror stories of the planetary purges sent shivers down the spine of the most hardened Imperial officers.

Their discussion went on for several minutes until Mars relented, promising to hold off on brining the second battalion into the fight until the Blood Ravens were satisfied with the level of danger that the insurgency presented. The Space Marine left the tent quickly, striding out to collect a squad of scouts. I watched his departure in interest. The man returned my gaze for a moment as he passed by. The faintest hint of suspicion crossed his eyes, then he was gone, sliding out of the tent with a grace that did not fit his power armored hulk.

"I noticed the support," Mars told me after the Space Marine disappeared from sight. "Appreciated, but not necessary."

I flashed him an innocent smile. "What are you talking about? We were in the hotel, shooting skeet."

Mars chuckled quietly and motioned for me to approach the table. "What did you spot from your post?"

I pulled out my knife and touched the map of the town. Drawing the blunt side of the blade across the forest's edge, I began reciting what I had seen.

"They had a good amount of Leman Russ tanks just at the edge of the woods. All but one were destroyed by artillery fire. The bulk of their force hit the center, near the gate, but a sizable portion assaulted the hotel-line. That's where the breaches were, as far as I saw. There was at least a half battalion in the fight, plus extra vehicle support."

"Anything else?"

My eyes drifted over the faces in the room. The only people in the room were Mars and his handpicked command squad, me and Adin. It was safe to speak.

"Did you see the psykers?"

"Psykers?"

Mars' eyes narrowed dangerously. Psykers were extremely rare on Uthreme. Over time a taboo had formed over them, and human psykers were universally loathed by the men of Uthreme. The men of Uthreme were solid fighting men. The ability to tap into the Warp was a direct insult to their honor.

"Not yours?"

"No" he snarled, glaring at the map. His body shivered with a sigh and he ran a hand through his graying hair. "Were you able to neutralize them?"

"Half of them. They had a squad of stormtroopers covering them, and our shooting drew the attention of a Russ. Two got away, as did the remainder of the stormtrooper squad. We took out two clusters of traitors that had broken through the lines after relocating."

The Commissar snorted in disgust and flexed the fingers of his powerfist menacingly. "Damn psykers. Where in hell did they come from?"

"Have the satellites picked up any unidentified ships entering the system?"

One of the priests nodded his head and began leafing through the massive book that he carried. Flipping through the pages, he found what he was looking for and stabbed an accusing finger at the text.

"Our satellites do not have the power to identify all space vessels that enter this system, but three months ago an unidentified vessel landed in the southern peninsula. An investigative force was sent to determine what this vessel held. They never came back."

"The 3rd Battalion rebelled shortly afterwards," Mars added, gesturing for the priest to shut his book. "We know they are connected, but we have been unable to gain access to this vessel. The only thing of which we are certain is that it has not left the planet."

"Have you made any further attempts to locate it?"

"Three. Two infantry units and a squadron of fliers. Nothing made it back."

Adin stepped forward and studied the larger of the two maps on the table, the continental one. He idly placed his index finger on their position and began tracing paths down to the peninsula. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he guessed at the routes down there. It was a week's journey marching, half that if they cut through the woods.

"You've told the Blood Ravens, correct?"

"Of course. Their commander assured me that his scouts would look into it."

"Scouts… as in this scouting party of his that he is organizing?"

"How-"

The Commissar cleared his throat noisily, silencing the colonel. I held up an appeasing hand to forestall any comments.

"I was speaking with Montross on the line when one of the Space Marines… Avitus, I think his name was, ordered him to round up a squad for a scouting mission."

The Commissar's glare softened, and he looked to Mars, bowing slightly in apology. Mars brushed it aside and fixed me with a curious eye.

"Are you volunteering?"

"We've got nothing better to do," I answered, wishing my words were true. I could think of a hundred other things I would rather be doing than going on a scouting party, much less being on a planet split by Chaos. But that was our life now, ever since that cursed Pariah gene had activated.

"You do realize that he requested my troops as a formality. I doubt you will be allowed to do anything useful out there."

"Well, we can always take a shot at that mysterious vessel."

The look I shot Adin was murderous. Looking for that spacecraft was definitely not on my to-do list. I mentally damned him to the Abyss and glanced back at Mars, a correction forming on my lips. It was too late.

"It could be done," Mars mused. He leaned against the table, bracing himself with one arm, and drew a path from our position to the middle of the peninsula. He tapped the endpoint twice. "The first investigation went straight down the road. We lost contact with them in the swamps. The second stayed near the beaches. We can only assume that the traitors ambushed them, because they dropped off the radar in the middle of a report. The fliers came in from our carrier platform. Only the Emperor knows how far they got or what they saw."

"And you have no idea what is out there now?"

"No." The words resounded through the tent with uncomfortable clarity. The priest opened his book again and thumbed to a later page. "By the accounts we have received two battalions have broken away from the Emperor's graces. The first to rebel was the 3rd Battalion of the 42nd Uthreme. The second belonged to 1st Battalion of the 15th Uthreme. Several company-sized units from the other battalions in the 15th also turned away from the path. Their estimated strength is between 1500 and 4000."

"Less a two hundred fifty or so after today," I commented, fighting back a sinking feeling in my stomach. "And a couple hundred more from this week's skirmishes."

"Which leaves them with enough to still put a sizable force on the field. We managed to contain them in the peninsula, but we have been unable to ascertain where the 1st has deployed. The only elements we have seen belonged to the 3rd."

"Do you think the 1st might be guarding the spacecraft?"

The priest shut his book and tugged at his wispy beard with a bony hand. "That is a distinct possibility. Our satellite readings pointed to an alien origin. Not Ork, but certainly not Imperial."

"Chaos?"

Mars shook his head. He was a veteran of several campaigns against Chaos forces. His very first tour of duty had been in the defense of the Cadian Gate. If anyone knew how to recognize Chaos forces, it was him.

"We have seen no evidence of Chaos weapons or troops. The Blood Ravens have assured me that no Chaos force is at work here. Whatever convinced the Battalions to…" Mars shuddered at the thought. "It is not of Chaos origin."

"Xenos then?"

"It must be."

I read the frown behind Mars' words easily enough. Tapping the stock of the sniper rifle, I shrugged confidently. "Whatever they are, they've got to bleed. If the Blood Ravens want to take a gander at it, so be it."

"Thirsting for blood, Leon?"

"Not blood, just peace. This planet has already seen too much war."

Mars nodded knowingly. "No rest for the righteous, I am afraid. Get some rest, I will send for you once the scouting party is ready. The battalion armory is at your disposal should you find yourself lacking in supplies."

"My thanks, Colonel." I placed my right hand over my heart and bowed low. "May the Emperor guide your blade."

"And your aim."

Adin left the tent first with me right behind. We walked in silence towards the rear, where our tent was. Once out of hearing range of the tent I took a quick stride forward and smacked the back of Adin's helmet with my palm. He rocked forward, managing to not stumble, and swore.

"What was that for?"

"Are you serious? You just _had_ to volunteer us for the scouting party, not to mention investigating the frakking spacecraft. What in the Abyss have you been smoking?"

Adin's injured tone was ruined by his helmet. "I haven't been smoking anything. I just figured it would be something to do. It sure beats sitting around in camp, sniping officers all day."

I had to agree with him there, but only on technicality. As much as I would hate going on this scouting mission, holding the line was going to be a bore. We had already been shot at by tanks once this week. That was one time too many. The city was practically deserted, thanks to the recent buildup of troops, so there was nothing to do behind the lines. Camp life was one thing about being in the Imperial Guard that I did not miss. Granted, we had been Kasrkin, serving mainly on Cadia during that time, but camp life was boring.

"You owe me for dragging my butt into this," I growled. His response was to hand over my bolter, which I snatched quickly.

"There, there's your rifle back. We're even now."

I snarled at him and flipped it around, aiming it square at his chest. We stood in silence for a second, then a low chuckle reverberated from Adin's helmet. I cracked a smile and shook my head wistfully. Slipping the sniper rifle off my shoulder, I handed it to him and flicked his shoulder plate.

"Did you get a load of that Blood Raven commander? He looked too smart to be a Space Marine."

Adin laughed and started off for the tent. I fell in step beside him and glanced around conspiratorially. "I heard that the 3rd Battalion has an all-female unit in it. Sounds like something that's just up your alley."

The big man's grin would have taken in his ears had he had his helmet off. I could almost hear the gears start whirring in his head. This was going to be one hell of a scouting mission.


	2. Let's go to hell

Adin and I strode out of the armory shelter with easy smiles on our faces. We had taken Colonel Mars at his word, and he would soon be regretting it. The armory was well stocked, Mars had brought most of the regimental's reserves with the battalion, so there was plenty to spare. We each took a targeter and surveyor and bandoliers of grenades. I also found a pack of meltabombs that I slipped into my pack.

When we reached the staging point, the Blood Ravens were already there. Four lightly armored, camo-meshed scouts stood quietly in a knot, holding bolters in tight grips. They did not speak, but their eyes constantly darted around the area, drinking in the sights. To a man they all looked grim and determined. Not a trace of trepidation betrayed them. I was impressed. Very few people could face a mission that sent them chasing an overwhelming force without unease. These guys were taking it like pros.

Standing alone, apart from the scouts, was a Space Marine that met the standards I had grown to expect. Eight feet tall, encased in towering power armor, armed to the teeth, and wearing a sharp set of eyes that threatened to pierce the soul, the Blood Raven turned to face us with the steady plodding determination of a machine. I was surprised to see that he had dark, graying hair, and his left eye was missing, replaced by a bionic enhancement. The shining red light flashed once as he scanned my face and began searching for a match in the Imperial database.

"Good morning," I greeted, choosing not to extend my hand. I doubted a Space Marine would be into that sort of thing. Besides, his super strength could have crushed my hand, and I liked having two. It made shooting a lot easier. "It's a fine day to go hunt some traitors."

"Hm…" the Space Marine responded. His good eye studied my face and he nodded his head knowingly. "You were Kasrkin. What's a Cadian doing on Uthreme?"

"Same thing you're doing, Space Marine. Hunting the traitors of the Emperor."

The Space Marine chuckled softly, a mirthless smile appearing on his lips. He brought his weapon, a large caliber sniper rifle, to his shoulder and fit the barrel against his neck. "But you volunteered to come here, did you not? And you are no longer a soldier, but a member of the Ordo Malleus. I was not aware of any daemnonic presences on this planet."

"Former member of Ordo Malleus," I corrected, taking the liberty. "We're mercenaries now."

A hint of revulsion flittered though the Space Marine's features at the word. I almost winced at the man's reaction. But then again, he was a Space Marine. They were practically engineered to be undyingly loyal to the Emperor. I'm sure that mercenaries were right next to the Chaos legions on their list of respect. That did not bother me in the slightest. I had some measure of freedom in my service. They had nothing.

"That is a rare _honor_."

My eyes narrowed menacingly. His meaning was clear. "I am sorry," I muttered. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am…"

"Cyrus."

My vox chirped insistently on my shoulder. Glancing down, I saw it flashing in the blue light that signaled a Commissar's channel. The Space Marine noticed and nodded his head.

"May the Emperor bless your steps," he intoned, and he turned back to his Marines. I acknowledged the dismissal and answered the message. It was Montross.

"The squad is forming up now. Are you prepared?"

"We're already at staging area, Commissar. The Blood Ravens have assembled too."

"Good. My squad will be there shortly."

I glanced at Adin and raised an eyebrow. Montross was coming with them? This was a lot of authority coming with this scouting mission. I would have asked if there was something we were missing, but I knew for a fact that we were in the know on this one. Maybe Mars was just being cautious.

We sat down on crates while we waited for the Guardsmen to show up. Adin set about cleaning his sniper rifle, pulling it apart and meticulously wiping down the components with specially treated cloth. I watched dismissively, letting my hands run over the rugged cast of my bolter. Adin's sniper rifle needed cleaning to stay effective. I could throw my bolter under a Leman Russ and it would come out firing.

"What do you think the odds are that we run into an ambush out there?"

My partner tilted his head up a little, his eyes hidden by the black pits of his helmet visor. He might have been looking at me, but then again his hands never left the scope. The long silence that followed told me he was willing to bet a month's pay on it. Not at all reassuring.

"Right…"

With nothing better to do, I pulled the recorder out of my pack and started up where I had left off. Before landing on Uthreme, I had searched the archives for every scrap of intelligence I could find on the planet. There were 15 terabytes of information, most of it useless. Colonial records and taxes made the bulk of it. Only 3 terabytes had information that applied to our stay. The cultural aspects of the people and militaristic structure caught my interest.

In the past week on Uthreme I had worked my way through the civilian side of the data. The only pertinent information I found was that there had been a recent power shift in the government and a more liberal governor had been appointed. He had instituted the radical step of integrating women into frontline units. That had created a strong division in the military about that move. I had studied the response intently, trying to find a connection between this move and the 3rd Battalion's revolt. They happened close enough that I had no doubt it was related.

The leader of the 3rd Battalion, a freshly-promoted Colonel from the Southern Province, had organized a Regimental-wide protest against the measure, even going so far as to approach the governor directly. He had been thrown out of the building after striking the man in the face. The spacecraft landed on the planet less than a week later. The rebellion had followed soon after. The timing was too perfect.

"You reading that crap again? How's that going for you?"

"Amazingly well, Adin. You'd be surprised what you learn when you read the Imperial database."

"What'd you find?"

I could not help but allow a smile to creep onto my lips. "For one, that rumor about the all-female unit is not a rumor. It's a fact."

His helmet perked my way and his fingers slipped off the stock of his sniper rifle. Now that I had his attention, I gestured to the recorder.

"And I found the ringleader behind this rebellion. And I found out that the Uthreme Guard is not trained in forest fighting. They have no projectile weaponry apart from the heavy gear."

"So if we run into combat, stay fast and mobile. Flanking and overwhelming these Khorne-loving suckers will be easy."

Adin shrugged and went back to cleaning his rifle. His hands became a blur of intricate twisting and picking as he reassembled the weapon. I did not bother trying to track his movements. Adin knew the sniper rifle like the back of his hand. His constant maintenance made the weapon a work of art. It was too complicated to keep track of.

Going back to my recorder, I resumed skimming the geographical data on the Southern Peninsula. We would be travelling through a lot of swamp. That was just great. I hated swamps. There were too many alien life forms in swamps. More often than not they were unfriendly and hungry. I had seen too many men killed by indigenous swamp creatures.

Thankfully, our carapace armor was specially hardened against acidic attacks. Past experience had taught the Kasrkin that most swamp creatures came in one of two varieties: constrictors or acidic. Constrictors were easy enough, providing you had backup. Acidic creatures could put up a nasty ambush however. That's why the Cadian foundries had eventually been convinced to modify the existing Kasrkin armor to combat those forces. The coating proved especially useful daemonic fire. It was a two-for-one deal.

It was not long before I heard the tramping of many armored boots. Looking up from the recorder, I saw Commissar Montross staring straight at me. I lifted my hand and touched my forehead in a subtle salute. He nodded and turned towards the Space Marine squad leader. He trudged through the light mud with little regard for the unblemished glimmering cloak on his back. My eyes followed the trailing edge of his cloak, curious to see how it had remained so perfect in the muddy battlefield. His boots never touched the ground. They fell quickly with each step, plummeting to the ground, but they did not leave prints in the mud. Repulsor boots were an unusual and impressive piece of equipment on a backwater world like this one.

"Nice boots," I muttered, calculating the price in my mind. It must have been a year's pay. That was an extravagant item for a Commissar. Again, I appreciated the simpler mindsets of the Uthreme inhabitants. The battle-hardened stormtroopers of the Imperial Guard would never have spent their money on such personal comforts. Not to mention they were damned useful in the field. Repulsor boots left no tracks, making stealth a lot easier.

"Eh?"

Adin tapped my shoulder with the barrel of his rifle, stealing my attention. I flicked a look down the clear sight and blinked lazily. It was perfectly clear, with a hint of liquid shine on the glass. _Show off_.

"What was Montross before he made Commissar," I asked quietly, knowing that Adin did not know the answer. I pushed a few buttons and searched for Montross' file. With my black market data crawler technology I found it in minutes. It was marked confidential, as all Commissar files were. I did not hesitate to tap in my personnel code. My Inquisition key overwrote the clearance and Montross' profile flared onto the screen in bulky green letters. I scrolled down to his service record. He had been a stormtrooper, scout unit. That made more sense. Scouts were prone to eccentricities.

Adin looked down at the screen over my shoulder and whistled. "Scout, huh? Reckon he's been off-world?"

"Why don't you go ask him?"

"Nah, man. I don't think that he'd take kindly to us asking about his personal life. It's pretty interesting though. If he goes down on this mission, I claim the boots."

The response was so abrupt and heartless that I could not contain a short bark of laughter. Adin had a very dry, coarse set of humor that never ceased to amaze. An armored hand slapped my shoulder and he chuckled.

"I'm kidding, Leon. Come on, let's go meet the kids."

He strode off towards the squad of Guardsmen, who were standing uncertainly in a bunch, their attention split behind the hulking Space Marines and the strange Kasrkin armored figures that approached them. One of the men stepped forward hesitantly, eyeing me with undisguised interest. He had sergeant chevrons on his shoulder plate and a las carbine slung over his shoulder. His helmet was dented and scratched as if it had been hit more than once in close combat. There was just a touch of shadow on his jaw, and his eyes sparkled with unbridled fire. He could not have been more than twenty.

"Sergeant Ishmael Collins, 42nd Uthreme Guard. Glad to have you, sir."

"Just Leon," I corrected, extending my hand. He stared at if for a second, wondering how to respond, then grabbed it and shook it warmly. His grip was firm and fused with energy. I appreciated it. Very few Guardsmen were that spunky. "How're you feeling?"

"Ready to rock, sir."

Adin chuckled quietly at the word 'sir.' His helmet tipped my way and he shook his head. Grunts were all the same. They had too much authority drilled into their heads. The little bit of ego that I allowed enjoyed the fawning.

"Ever run recon before?"

"No sir. This is my first taste of combat. Well, yesterday was, sir."

"Great," Adin muttered, his voice crackling in my ear. "Green recruits. This is getting better."

Brushing off the comment, I looked over the sergeant's lasgun with a critical eye. It was polished to a glistening finish, but there was no mistaking the discoloration around the barrel that came with regular usage. I stretched out my hand and touched the barrel carefully, making sure that I had the man's approval first. He held the weapon out for me to inspect. I merely lifted the barrel and examined the tip.

"You practice on the firing range?"

"Several times a week. One of the best shots in the battalion, sir."

"What's your score?"

"74."

I whistled lightly. The Imperial Guard had a universal weapon qualification test. An endless stream of targets, spawning one when the previous was hit. 60 seconds were given to take down as many targets as possible. Last I had heard, the record was 90. I had scored an 82 myself. Any number over 60 was incredible. Scoring above 70 in a backwater, peaceful world was unheard of. A score over 70 required reflexes and precision that could only be picked up on a battlefield.

"Were you a hunter?"

Collins lowered his head modestly. "Before joining I hunted game."

"Big or small?"

"A bit of both."

An armored glove tapped my shoulder. I did not need to look to know it was Kasrkin pattern. Adin's armored form stomped into view beside me, his helmet turned away. My eyes flicked to the side and followed his sightline. Montross and Cyrus were approaching, eyes on me. Collins stepped back, sensing that I was about to go.

"Your men are ready?" Cyrus' eye swept over the assembled men. It was a tribute to the Space Marine conditioning that he did not let his disappointment show. The squad was a miserable bunch, with poor equipment but high spirits. Their armor was scratched and dented, second-hand issues and their weapons were tinged with rust. Compared next to the blazing armor of the Blood Ravens, they looked like ragged grafters.

"We are."

The Space Marine fixed Adin with his unwavering gaze and studied the man, as if trying to decide who he was. "And the Cadians are prepared?"

"Let's blow this joint," Adin joked, his voice carefully neutral. "The bush is calling."

He stared out towards the lines, confident that the others would follow. Montross stared after him in surprise for a moment and then caught my eye. He was not impressed, nor did he appreciate it. I shrugged subtly. Adin was a personal force of nature. Once he started, he did not stop easily.

Cyrus signaled to his men and they loped over to the gate. A pair of Terminator Marines stood by as they passed, raising their weapons in respect. I followed with the Guardsmen, resisting the urge to look back. I hated leaving a well-fortified position.

Montross strode ahead to speak with Cyrus, leaving me with Sergeant Collins. The man kept pace with me, eyes darting over every few seconds as if to examine me. I shot him a sidelong glance and saw that he was trying to match my gait. He carried his las carbine in a loose but ready grip. The strap was twined around his hand. Perhaps it was something he had seen in a holofilm. The stance was certainly not natural.

"What was it like," Collins asked, his voice cracking with nervous tension.

I did not reply for a moment. My eyes were scanning the woods already, searching for signs of spying eyes. Adin was no doubt already doing that. I caught a glimpse of his armored form through the hulking Space Marines. He was kneeling in the middle of the plains, surrounded by the rotting corpses of traitor Guards, scoping out the tree line. I had no reason to worry.

"Sir?"

"Are you asking about living on Cadia, being a Kasrkin, or fighting demons?"

"Any of it."

The rest of the squad was listening, eager to hear the word of a battle-hardened trooper. I snuck a glance at some of their faces. They were looking for encouragement and tales of heroism. I had precious few of those. The battlefields I had fought on were squalid, desolate crater fields. The men who leapt up and yelled "follow me" usually never made it more than ten feet before being blown to pieces by bolter shells. The fools that tried following them never fared better.

"I've seen many good men die," I muttered. "I've fought monsters larger than any three us of put together, and I've dodged shells bigger than a Leman Russ tank. It's not a pretty place, Cadia. The world is a desolate corpse. But I have also seen the might of the Emperor in all its righteous fury. Ihave witnessed the sword of the Space Marines rain down from the heavens, the terrifying firepower of the Titan Legions, and the unflinching loyalty of the Inquisitors. War is not glorious, make no mistake about it. But it is full of glory."

Collins did not reply. His mouth was shut tight as he digested my words. He was a good kid. I wondered how he had made sergeant so quickly. On Cadia, if you survived more than two years in the Kasrkin you pretty much earned the chevrons and rockers. Again, I marveled at Uthreme's innocence.

We reached the tree line and paused for a moment. Cyrus sent his men in, spreading out in a half circle. The Guardsmen followed behind, giving the experts their space. Adin and I stayed close to Montross. The Space Marines would not appreciate our help until we had proved ourselves in their eyes. That was fine with me. It was Adin's idea to get involved, after all, not mine. If they wanted to do the hard work, fine.

Dead bodies were scattered across the forest floor. The traitor Guardsmen were splayed across roots, under leaves, and even hanging from thick branches, thrown by the mighty fire of the Basilisks. I did not bother trying to count them. There were easily dozens in the trees, hundreds more out on the plain. There was no use in counting, they were just statistics. Statistics in a horrible universe of Chaos and the Emperor.

"Check that out," Adin whispered over the vox. My eyes followed the direction of his hand and stared. Two men were lying on their backs, boots touching. They were covered in blood, as were the others, but these two were different. Their hands were flat at their sides and there were no weapons near them. Both had massive chest wounds, but the wounds were caused by no explosive I had ever seen. It looked like knife wounds.

"A sacrifice, maybe?"

I gestured to Montross and pointed him in the direction of the bodies. He tramped off, hands behind his back, and stood over the bodies like a homicide inspector. Adin and I guided the curious Guardsmen away from the bodies. Collins helped too, barking out orders to the men. It was clear that he was just as eager to see the spectacle as the others, but he was holding in his curiosity. That was the mark of a good soldier. I liked that.

Adin picked up his pace and separated from the squad. His voice rang in my earpiece.

"I'll go alert Cyrus. Keep the grunts moving."

He jogged deeper into the forest. I stayed behind, keeping the squad close together, and herded them forward. It felt like my days as a gunnery sergeant in the Kasrkin. For two months I had been assigned to a Whiteshield platoon as the non-commissioned officer. It had been my job to train them for battle against Chaos forces. Needless to say, half of them were killed in the first battle. By the time my tour was over, less than ten of the original fifty were still alive. The worst part was that my superiors had considered that a good job.

An hour passed without further incident. Montross caught up with us soon after we found the bodies. He did not say a word to anyone. His mouth was clamped shut so tightly that it might as well have been iron-pressed. The determination in his eyes told me all I needed to know. The traitors were up to some serious corruption.

That did not encourage me at all. I hated fighting Chaos-corruption without an Inquisitor at my back. At the very least, a good psyker or two and a squad of shocktroopers made me at ease. We were going on a recon mission with a Space Marine team, a squad of inexperienced Guardsmen, and one Commissar. This was not going to turn out well at all.

My plucky companion did not share my pessimism. He did not speak much, but his stride carried a swagger that fit the parade ground. If he was nervous, he did not show it. Of course, he had Kasrkin shock armor and a refractor field. Nothing short of a cannon round would take him out on the first shot. He was about as safe as the Space Marines were.

It was one of those many times that I wished I still had my helmet. I really should have gotten around to requisitioning a new one back in my Ordo Malleus days. There was something to be said for the early bird metaphor.

Midday was our first rest break. The Guard squad clustered around in a tight circle, lounging around lazily and stretching their legs. Cyrus' Space Marines stood guard around the unit, their weapons constantly at the ready. Montross spoke with Cyrus off to the side, leaving Adin and I alone. We sat down on a fallen log and checked out weapons. There was not anything better to do.

"What's the terrain like out there," Adin asked quietly. He lifted the sniper rifle to his shoulder and swept the area. I wondered whether or not he was looking. His helmet was smart-linked to the scope. Anytime he was within a dozen meters of the scope he could switch it on. It was great for reconnaissance missions. He could stay safe behind cover while the rifle lay hidden under a thin sheet or some other cover.

"Swamp, lots of swamp. After that more forest."

"Sounds like fun."

Adin grunted in frustration. "No towns, no cities, no nothing out there?"

"Nope."

"I was hoping for a city fight. Urban stuff, you know?"

I swallowed hard. The last city fight I had seen had been terrible. I did not want to see another like it ever again.

"Maybe next time, Adin."

"Yeah."

He shook his head in disgust and bounced off the log. Slinging his sniper rifle over his shoulder, Adin strode over to the Guardsmen. I did not follow, but stared off into the trees. There were potentially thousands of enemies out in those woods. We had no idea where. My stomach churned at the prospect of going further into the forest. Something was going to go wrong, I knew it. I just did not know what.


	3. Natural hazards

By the time we reached the swamp it was growing dark. Little light shone down from the moonless sky, leaving us shadowed. The only lights on the ground were the soft glow of Adin's night scope. I had an auspex tucked away in my pack, but I did not bother pulling it out. In a swamp like this it would only attract predators.

Cyrus slowed down the advance, giving the lesser armored Guardsmen slack. He was different from most of the Space Marines I had encountered before. For one, he was not a snobby, arrogant asshole. Most Space Marines were. It came with being a genetically enhanced super human. Cyrus' lack of attitude was a refreshing relief.

The rest of his Space Marines were not much different. From what little I had learned about the Space Marine culture, I knew that the scouts tended to be the newest and youngest recruits. They had not had hundreds of years of superiority ingrained into their bones. One of them was even friendly, making small talk about our bolters as we searched for safe footing through the treacherous paths.

The relentless sucking mud clung to our boots, slowing the Guardsmen to a crawl. They were clearly unused to traversing the swamp in boots. As civilians they might have hunted in similar places, but their flak armor and boots were too heavy and bulky for the delicate hunter's paths. More than one Guardsmen stumbled and fell into the murky water when their boots plowed straight through the soft earth.

Adin had little trouble with the swamp. He was an accomplished woodsman, one of the top of his class in survival training. He directed the Guardsmen from dry patch to dry patch, leading them forward with little trouble. Montross walked along side them, his repulsor boots holding him just above the water level. I caught his smug grin as he stepped carelessly over a gap in the path, coat swishing within inches of the water.

No one spoke a word. There was little chance that someone was watching or listening, but there was an obscene silence that covered the swamp. The air was heavy and oppressive, choking even Adin's optimism. It was a dreary place.

And full of creatures. Snakes as wide as my arm glided through the water. Dozens of species of lizard and rodent animals slithered through the sparse grass, nipping at our heels. One came up and bit at my boot. It was the size of a cat, with large bulbous eyes and knife-shaped ears. Its teeth sank into the tip of my boot, punching through the steel tip with a crunching noise. I felt the teeth brush my toes. Surprised, but not alarmed, I lifted my other foot and stomped down, crushing the vermin's skull like paper.

"Nasty bite," I muttered, bending down to examine the puncture holes. They were neat and precise, hardly bent the steel under the leather. I whistled lightly. Making a mental note to watch out for more, I waved Adin over. He shook his head when he saw the holes.

"I'll warn the grunts. Fix bayonets?"

"Sounds like old times, doesn't it?"

He let out a short bark of laughter and returned to the infantrymen, pointing towards the ground. Emphasizing his point, he whipped out his combat knife and dropped to one knee. He stood a moment later, holding a dead rodent out for them to inspect. Their bayonets could not have been attached any faster.

The satellite images I had read told me the swamp was only a couple miles wide. We were well over halfway before any real trouble started. The path disappeared completely, vanishing for thirty meters. Cyrus stepped straight into it, unafraid as the swamp muck rose to caress his stomach. That put the water as deep as our chests. That was just asking for some unseen monster to strike. The scouts followed without hesitation, dropping into the water with their weapons held high. Montross hovered over the water, standing out like a statue dedicated to the Emperor.

"After you," Adin said, gesturing grandly. I shot him an evil look and stepped in carefully. My boots sank in completely. A growl rose in my throat, but I forced it down and took another step. The water was neither cold nor warm, but some disgusting place in the middle. I was glad to be wearing a full-body suit.

The Guardsmen filed in after me, eyeing the water nervously. Collins was the first, I noted. They held their las rifles close to their chests. Inching forward, we began to pass through the water. The Space Marines reached the other side without incident, as did Montross. They stood quietly waiting for us, their eyes tracking our progress.

A long, slick object brushed my leg. I nearly froze. It was as long as a snake, but it was far underwater. Did they have water-breathing snakes on Uthreme, or was that something far worse? Either way, I did not stick around. I waded forward, moving fast enough that I was no causing any splashing, and whispered a harsh order for everyone else to do likewise. No explanation was necessary. They understood the urgency in my voice.

We almost made it. The shore was a few arm's lengths out when one of the Guardsmen shrieked in pain. I turned around just in time to see him sink below the surface, pulled under by an invisible force. No one moved for a heartbeat, they all stared at where he had just been. Them someone panicked, raised his las rifle, and fired into the water.

One of the biggest problems that I had with the las fire technology was that it was not a solid matter weapon. Sure, lasers did not suffer from friction or gravity, but they were governed by the laws of physics. As little more than intensely concentrated heat beams, lasers were one of the last weapons that should be used in watery scenarios. When fired into a large body of water, all they did was heat it up. The laser barely penetrated more than an arm's length.

But they did raise one hell of a steam cloud. The water bubbled and hissed menacingly as his lasers cut into it. The steam spread out as it rose, covering our heads and enshrouding us in mist. The others Guardsmen panicked. They began firing too, thinking that the mist was some sort of animal creature. Lasers flew every direction, not just into the water. I raised one arm to protect my head and grabbed at the nearest soldier. Feeling a collar, I yanked hard. It was Collins. His eyes were wide as saucers.

"Get onto dry ground," I ordered, trying to keep my voice low. The Guardsmen were in a full blown panic, screaming and yelling with enough noise to alert anyone within miles of our position. I shoved Collins off in the direction of the shore and waded in, grasping at the straps to my combat knife. It was tucked against my right shoulder, but the wet straps were slick. I cursed the leather and pulled another soldier out of the mist.

My legs buckled suddenly as something hard slammed against my shins. I fell forward, body tensing in shock. The surface of the hissing water slapped my face like a scalding tea. I forced my head under the surface, finding the cooler water below, and opened my eyes.

It was not a monster that had struck me, but a drowning Guardsmen. His hand was clawing for me as he was dragged away into the murky depths. I reached out instinctively with one hand, finding his, and held on tight. The force of the monster pulling him jerked me forward.

My combat knife's strap finally came loose and I pulled it out. Tugging myself through the water, I climbed past the man's face and got a hold of his belt. A giant tentacle was wrapped around his thigh. I stabbed as hard as I could through the water, plunging my blade deep into the slimy organ.

The tentacle retracted immediately, breaking free of my knife and releasing the man. His face was dangerously pale. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I found ground and pushed off. My lungs burned with the effort, but we reached the surface. Our heads exploded out of the water, surrounded by wafting clouds of steam. The cries of the Guardsmen assaulted our ears like sweet music. A laser zipped past out heads, narrowly missing my shoulder.

"Hold you fire," I shouted, struggling to find my footing. The Guardsmen hung limply in my grasp, unconscious. Two Guardsmen emerged from the mist like ghosts. I moved to meet them, lugging the hapless Guardsmen with me.

"He's unconscious. Get him to the shore!"

The men leapt forward and grabbed him. Nothing motivated them like a wounded comrade, it seemed. That left me to return my attention to the waters. There were still men firing all over, and they were scattered. I slogged towards the nearest sound, praying that I was not about to be shot in the face. An armored back appeared out of the mist. The Guardsmen was hacking wildly at the water, using his rifle like a club. I reached out a hand to grab his back.

The water exploded to our side. A fist sized tentacle shot out and wrapped around his arm. Before he could move a second object came out of the water. It was a monstrous head, scaled like a snake's but with three jaws and a single eye between the upper ones. It bit down onto his arm, just above the elbow. The man screamed in pain.

My knife was there in an instant, slashing the tentacle in half. The head recoiled, ripping the man's arms off at the shoulder, and faded back into the water. The man's rifle went with it. I caught the man before he fell, grabbing his shoulder harness and yanking him away. I thrust into the water as I backpedaled, horrified at the blood that gushed out of the man's empty socket. The Guardsmen moaned in pain. That was not good. Screams were good, that meant he was conscious. Moans meant he was already in shock. He needed immediate medical care.

Collins was waiting at the edge of the water. He stood waist deep, a large machete in one hand and a slug pistol in the other. I stumbled past him, half-carrying the wounded Guardsmen, and flopped onto the ground. The bank hit my stomach, I could not get up while carrying him. Thankfully, eager hands pulled him out of the water.

I wanted to get out of the water and lie down so bad. My breath came in ragged gasps from the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. But there were more men out there. I pushed off the solid ground and spun to face the waters. The surface erupted right in front of me. A fearsome, triangular headed monster rushed to meet me. Its jaws scraped my chest plate, blasting me backwards against the bank. The air left my lungs in a whoosh, stunning me. Perplexed by the resistance, the head drew back. It hovered for a moment in midair. I returned its gaze, bringing my knife up to bear. The beast's maw opened wide and it let out a ululating cry that made my skin crawl. Just as it started to snap forward a loud bang ripped beside my right ear. The beast's head exploded like a melon. It sank back into the water without a noise.

Collins stepped in front of me protectively. I caught my breath and got back on my feet. Patting his shoulder appreciatively, I slipped past him and went back into the mist. Two more las rifles blared out further in the mist. I did not want to ponder the implication of that small a number. Were the others dead, or had they gotten to shore?

Adin's imposing figure rose out of the water to my left. He was holding a Guardsmen by the collar. The man was clearly dead, with blood all over his throat. I swallowed and moved past them. The last two were standing close together. They were standing back to back, firing frantically into the water.

"Stay back," One of them yelled. "It's in here somewhere."

The water rippled in front of one of them. The man fired relentlessly into the spot, sending spouts of steam gushing up to obscure the man's vision. The ripple disappeared, reappearing a moment later in front of the other man. I saw the pattern and stepped forward, studying the water intently.

When the thing crossed in front of me, too busy circling the men to notice me, I stuck one hand into the water and grabbed a hold of it. Yanking it out, I held it at arm's length to look at it. It was a simple water snake, nothing more. It hissed angrily at me. I raised my combat knife and jammed the blade in under its jaws. The flailing stopped.

"Come on, let's go before more of them show up," I barked, grabbing the men's attention. We rushed for the bank as fast as our feet could carry us. Every second crawled by like an hour until Collins grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. Adin extended a hand, helping me out of the swamp, and I clambered onto drier ground.

Adin's helmet slipped into view as I rolled onto my back and inhaled deeply. My ribs ached from the beast's blow. There was a soft whirring noise and his visor cycled into the helmet, revealing his amber colored eyes.

"You ok there, buddy?"

"Oh yeah, just give me a minute."

He backed away as I sucked greedily for air. I would have given anything for a warm shower and a cold room, but the muggy air of the swamp would have to suffice. Feet were trampling nearby, and there were lots of low voices murmuring overhead. I did not care. I stared up into the sky, enjoying a short moment of relief.

"Are you hurt, sir?"

Collins sat down beside me, letting out a long sigh. His cheek was scratched badly and his armor was covered in muck, but otherwise he looked fine. I rocked forward to a sitting position beside him, wincing as the motion sent jolts of lightning through my chest.

"Bruised rib or two, maybe. Not bad at all."

I jerked my head behind me, where everyone else was. "What's the count? How many did we lose?"

"Uh… two, for now. Hakim is in a bad way, I don't think he's going to make it."

I twisted around to look. There was a startlingly large number of Guardsmen still standing after the chaos of the creatures' attack. Many of them were clustered around something I could not see, but I heard the anxiety in their voices clear as day.

"He's the one who lost his arm," Collins offered somberly. I nodded slowly.

"What about the other two? Taken by the beasts?"

"One was, I think. We can't find him. The other was mauled, and shot."

"Shot?"

Collins whimpered softly and buried his head in his hands. His body shuddered with a sob. I did not have to think hard to know what had happened. Lasers had been flying everywhere. It was a miracle that more men had not been killed.

"Take it easy, Collins. You did fine."

He did not respond. I patted his back once and rose to my feet. Leaving him alone, I strode over to Montross, who was standing silently with Cyrus. Neither looked very happy.

"Their shots and cries will have been heard by every rebel within five miles." Montross scowled fiercely. "We need to continue on. Delaying only puts us in more danger."

"I agree," Cyrus announced. He pointed his sniper rifle towards the trees. "We need to get into the woods. No rest until we are a mile in. It will be safe for them to mourn their dead there."

"They've got wounded," I pointed out. "Let me rig a stretcher, then we can go."

"Hakim is already dead," Montross spat. The strength of his voice carried out across the group. A shocked hush fell over the Guardsmen. Adin glanced at me, his visor back on. This was the flip side of the Commissars. No mercy, not to the enemy, not to their own men. The Guardsmen had not learned the extent of that dedication yet.

"Fine," I muttered. Turning away, I walked back to Collins and tapped his shoulder. "Get up, we need to get moving."

The Guardsmen stood mutely, staring about uncertainly. Montross addressed them all as loud as he dared, but his voice caught their attention.

"The swamp will be swarming with rebels in less than an hour. We are leaving, now!"

A handful sprang to action, responding with numb energy. The others clustered around the dying Guardsmen, trying to find a way to pick him up. Montross unholstered his pistol and fired a single round through their midst. The bolt shell punched through the man's armor and erupted inside his heart, killing him instantly. The last thing on his face was an expression of horror.

The Space Marines jogged off towards the woods to secure it, leaving us behind with the Commissar and ten suddenly angry Guardsmen. Montross stood his ground, smoking pistol dangling at his side. He looked each one in the eye, challenging them.

"His misery is over. You can join him, or you can move out."

A solitary Guardsmen's hand inched towards the trigger of his las rifle. Adin slapped his barrel towards the ground.

"You can't change the past," Adin warned them. "Now come on. Make their sacrifices worth something."

The men listened to Adin, and marched mutely away. Montross and I watched them go for a moment. The Commissar shot me a sidelong glance.

"And what do you have to say, Kasrkin? Do you approve?"

"I do." I admitted it freely, but kept my voice low. "They don't understand the risk. You put him out of his misery, saving their lives. They aren't used to it all though. I doubt they will understand it for quite some time."

"They don't have to understand it. They just have to follow orders."

I shrugged carelessly. "Yeah. Go on ahead, I'll be a minute. I'm going to gather supplies and ammunition from the dead. Better to take it with us than leave it to rot or worse, for the traitors to get a hold of."

Montross nodded and started off after the soldiers. His uniform was still pristinely untouched by the swamp muck.

Standing beside the dead bodies, I studied each face carefully, committing them to memory. The one that Adin had dragged ashore was missing his dog tags. I grabbed Hakim's and stuffed them into a pocket. Stripping off their ammunition belts, I slung their canteens and ration packs over my shoulder. Neither of their rifles had been recovered. Two extra week's worth of ration was more than enough. I jogged off after the fading bodies, watching the tree line far off to our left. I could not help but imagine a sniper sitting out in the brush, with his scope trained on my face. I hurried along, putting as much distance between myself and the swamp as quickly as I could.

…

Cyrus did not call a halt until we were several miles away from the swamp. The Guardsmen flopped onto the ground gratefully, exhausted by the Space Marines' pace. Even Adin and I were breathing hard. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and shut my eyes, but I knew that was impossible. The perimeter needed to be secured, I needed to pass out the dead men's gear, and the issue of Montross' actions needed to be settled. The Guardsmen had said nothing yet, but their eyes were easy enough to read. They were angry and confused. Once they passed that point, they would have a lot of questions.

Adin set about forestalling that. He walked among the Guardsmen, calming their nervous with easy banter. His helmet remained on, but the cheery tone encouraged them. I sat alone, my back to a large tree. Picking carefully at the armor, I removed my chest plates and felt around the sore area. Only one rib was broken, but several more were battered and bruised. It was going to be a painful recovery. Not horrible, but painful. The next few days were going to be awful.

The soft tramping of boots alerted me to another's presence. Collins sat down beside me, keeping a respectful distance away. I shot him a glance and nodded my head.

"How are you feeling," I asked, already guessing the answer. Collins blinked a few times and looked up at me. His eyes were red and puffy.

"Is it always like this?"

"Yeah."

There was no point in avoiding the truth. It was there right in front of him. No lies or sweet talking would erase the memory of the swamp. That was the way it should be. He had been unlucky. My first battle had been a trench fight against a swarm of Chaos cultists. It was not nearly as traumatizing as seeing men dragged into a swamp by alien creatures. My days in the Ordo Malleus came to mind, painfully fresh. It seemed that my bad luck had survived the Inquisition.

"Men die in war, Collins. That's how it always has been, that's how it always will be. There is no getting around it. I'm sorry for your men. They did not deserve deaths like that."

"Why did he do it?"

I started to ask who he was referring to, but the answer struck me before I spoke. Collins was not looking at me, but glaring across at Montross. His weapons were still holstered, but I could tell that he wanted to use them.

"To get your men out of there. If he had let you try and bring him, we could have all been caught."

"He frakking shot Hakim! He shot him like a dog."

I sighed softly, wincing as the action drew out a twinge of pain. People in shock were always hardest to deal with.

"How long would he have survived being dragged or carried? He had already lost a lot of blood."

'He could have given us a chance!"

"And risk all of us getting killed? I know you don't want to hear it, Collins, but in war you are going to have to make sacrifices."

The sergeant shook his head defiantly. "No, there's always a choice. We could have gone back."

"Back through the swamp?" I hid my incredulity well. He was grasping at straws, wishing for a justification. I pitied him. There was a reason why sergeants were battle-hardened soldiers, not fresh boys. The responsibility was crushing.

"Collins, come here."

The Guardsmen scooted closer and leaned back against the tree. I curled my hand into a fist and knocked his knee plate soundly.

"Don't waste your time thinking of 'what if's.' You will find plenty of solutions, but no answers. It will take time, but you need to learn to let it go. I did."

Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew Hakim's dog tags and handed them over. Collins snatched them out of my hand and stared quietly at them. After a moment of silence he took his helmet off and draped the dog tags around his neck, adding them to his own. I watched silently as he redid his chinstrap. His eyes flicked over to mine defensively, but I nodded my approval.

"You're going to make a good sergeant," I told him. "Pray that you never lose your feelings. A cold man is little more than a machine."

He managed a weak smile. I slapped him on the back reassuringly.

"Go to your men, get some sleep. Tomorrow isn't going to be any better. The traitors probably know we are out here now. They are going to be on their guard."

The sergeant got up slowly and trekked off towards his squad. I relished the quiet that followed. It was soft, serene. There were too few of those nowadays. I enjoyed them while I could. My bolter rested in my lap and I stretched my arms. Knuckles cracked welcomingly.

"Your courage is commendable," a voice rumbled. I glanced upwards, peering up at the massive hulking form of the Space Marine leader. His grey hair and brilliantly green eye contrasted sharply with his gleaming red armor. I sighed quietly. Silence was too rare.

"I thought you Astartes didn't find anything good in us normals."

"You are misinformed, Leon Kane. We are always on the lookout for new talent."

"I'm not interested."

The sharp, biting tone had no affect on the Space Marine. He chuckled softly and shook his head.

"We are looking for recruits on this planet, it is true. As it is, your peculiar condition makes you unsuitable for the trials. Your skills are best served in your own body."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I merely came over to compliment your devotion. You went back into the swamp to rescue the Guardsmen. None of their own went back in."

"As you said, I've got the skills."

"If the Uthreme Guard had a company of men of your caliber, the rebel hordes would tremble. My commander allowed you to join this mission on Colonel Mars' request. So far it looks like his faith in you is justified."

"Wait until the shooting starts. I'm even better with a bolter."

"Which brings the question, how did you obtain it?"

My hesitation in answering gave him a good enough hint. He held out his hand, eyes clearly indicating that he wanted a look. I held the weapon out, gripping the massive barrel in one hand. He took it by the handle and examined it with a critical eye.

"This has the markings of the Deathwatch on it."

He tapped the side of the magazine casing, indicating an ornate 'I' with a bleached white skull over it. Moving his finger, he pointed to the same symbol on the side of the bolter, just above the trigger guard. He did not look disturbed or resentful, just curious.

"How did you get it?"

"I fought with a Deathwatch squad while under Inquisitor Verne."

"Where?"

"Spartus Sector. Rogue Dark Eldar and Flame Falcons. Craziest shit I've ever seen."

He huffed lightly. "Rogue Dark Eldar? That seems like a contradiction of terms."

"That's what I had thought. Apparently the Dark Eldar don't like sharing their secrets. You ever gotten in a four-way firefight between an Inquisition squad, traitor Space Marines, Dark Eldar skimmers, and an out-of-control daemon?"

The Marine shook his head slightly and handed the bolter back. I accepted it gratefully and set it on my lap. He tapped his chest armor, finger pointing to a skull mark that matched the symbol on my bolter.

"Deathwatch, two centuries. I've never done anything quite like that, but we all have our own stories."

"I'm sure yours are more impressive than mine. I was only in the Ordo Malleus for five years."

"And the bolter?"

"Ultramarine, Pasanius. I think he was hoping to recruit me into the Ultramarines until they found out I was a Blaknk. Good fellow, straight as an arrow and deadly with a bolt pistol. He gave this to me when his bionic arm was damaged. Never asked for it back."

"That was generous of him."

"Yeah. I tried to give it back, after the mission. He refused. Said I had earned it. I did not complain too much. This beats a hellgun any day. It's more powerful, more portable, and carries a powerful reputation."

"He must have had much faith in you to let you hold such a sacred weapon. I will stand by his judgment. I formally welcome you into this mission, Leon Kane, veteran of the 8th Cadian regiment. You and your partner are proving to be valuable, and interesting allies."

"Thanks. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to grab some shuteye. I know you guys don't really sleep, so I won't say good night."

Cyrus gave a little grin and turned away. He patted the tree trunk as he left, using that as his goodbye. I nodded to his departing back and rested my chin on my chest. I was going to be really stiff in the morning. My eyelids dropped quickly. I was halfway through a yawn when I nodded off.

…

I woke with a start, grasping the handle of my bolter instinctively. Something was wrong. The acrid smell of a laser discharge wafted through the air. There was a lot of jerky movement crunching through the sticks and leaves. I looked first left, then right. Two Space Marines were standing guard fifty meters ahead. They did not look the least bit worried. The sound was coming from behind me, on the other side of the tree.

Since the Marines did not appear alarmed, I assumed that the situation had been handled. I adjusted my grip on the bolter and turned around the tree. The Guardsmen were standing around in a cluster, weapons pointed at the ground. Adin stood with them, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. Montross and Cyrus stood apart, conversing in low tones. There was on figure missing from the group; Collins.

I leapt up to my feet in an instant, scanning the ground for a body. There was none. Collins was just gone. I was shocked. It had not been more than a few hours since I had spoken with him. He had not seemed like the man to desert. On the other hand, he looked more than capable of keeping it together.

"What happened," I demanded, seeking out Adin. Adin turned to face me and dropped his visor. His expression was perfectly calm.

"Traitor patrol got too close. Three of them."

"And?"

His right hand drifted down to his side and tapped the butt of his rifle. "Cyrus, Collins and I took them out. Collins is checking them out now with one of the Astartes."

There was a faint hint of respect in Adin's voice. My eyes narrowed curiously, questions brimming. Adin nodded knowingly.

"With his carbine. From a hundred meters. That kid should have a sniper rifle."

"Sounds like he does just fine with a carbine," I muttered. Hitting a target at 100 meters with a carbine, hitting a kill-shot no less, in a forest required either an extreme amount of luck or a precise hand. His marksman score could have accounted for that. It was not unheard of, after all, to kill someone from that range with such a weapon. It was just unlikely to happen. At that range the laser needed to hit soft flesh. Armor would dissipate it and bone would stop it, although it would be shattered. I wondered where he had hit his target.

"Here they come now."

Collins and a Space Marine came trudging out of the trees, dragging the corpses of three Guardsmen with them. Collins held his by the arms and was dragging it face-first in the dirt. The Marine was holding each of his bodies by the neck, carrying them effortlessly as if they weighed nothing. To him, they probably did. Cyrus and Montross cut off the Guard squad and stood over the bodies, examining them closely. I shot Adin a look and strode over. He followed, curious to see the bodies.

If Adin had been hoping for some disgusting Chaos mutation in the bodies he was sorely disappointed. Their hair was dark and curly, their skin tanned like toast. The only unusual thing about them was the gut wrenching holes in their faces. All three had been shot through an eye socket. That fact did not seem to phase anyone looking except for Collins, who had the slightest shade of green in his cheeks.

"Damn," I muttered. Cyrus looked away from the bodies for only a moment to regard me. He nodded in respect and went back to examining the bodies. I did too, not feeling the least bit bothered.

Their armor was the same shade of grey that the rest of the Uthreme Guard wore. The Imperial Eagle's had been torn or sawn off of every piece of equipment on them. In its place was drawn a crude skull with flaming eyes. I glanced at Montross, watching for a reaction. He had none. Apparently the symbols meant nothing to him.

Another difference that I saw was that their gloves were fingerless. It was not a great difference, but it was noticeable. Looking closer, I inspected their fingers. They were rough and calloused, with dirty nails and cracked skin. Even for someone living in the wild, they were in horrible shape. I knelt down and pried the cooling fingers off of the man's rifle with my knife, examining his palms. They were scarred from burns, as if he had been grasping hot metal. The cuffs of his sleeves were bloody.

"I'll give you twenty guesses to find out what happened to him," Adin joked in my ear. I shook my head subtly, telling him to shut up. I ran my gloved hand down his chest, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

"Were they alone?"

Montross nodded slowly. He gestured towards the Space Marines still on the perimeter.

"They saw no one else."

"Do you think they were looking for us, or just out hunting for food?"

"It doesn't matter. Either way, we need to get moving. With so few men and no rucksacks their base cannot be far away. Our best bet is to continue southeast. We should skirt any outposts that way."

"That sounds like a plan."

I pushed off my knees and rocked to my feet. The sun was still low in the sky. I looked over to the Guardsmen, who were trying hard to appear uninterested in the bodies. Collins had backed away and stood against the tree that I had slept against. He leaned his shoulder against it, boots crossed casually. His shoulders were trembling.

Adin slapped my back to get my attention. I winced, feeling the impact rebound like lightning through my healing ribs, and growled dangerously.

"Collins is putting up with it rather well."

"So far. He's going through a lot. I just hope the pressure doesn't make him crack."

"I think he'll be fine" Adin assured me. "There's more courage in that kid than a in a regular platoon of Guardsmen."

"Which might be the problem. You can see the tension building up inside him. He might explode if he can't find a way to let it go."

"In a good way or bad way?"

The joke did not make me feel better. Adin patted my shoulder and strode over to the sergeant, adopting a confident swagger. His intention did not need to be spoken. I appreciated the effort he was taking. Adin rarely showed any respect for the regular troops. He was not above the elitism that came from being a Kasrkin. I had it too, just not as bad. For him to reach out to a regular Guardsman, it was a great show of either loyalty to me or understanding.

Adin came up beside the young man and looked straight ahead. I could not hear from the distance, but I knew he was talking to him. After watching for a long moment, seeing Collins relax slightly, I looked away and sought out Montross. The Commissar stood with his back to a thick oak, his eyes on the Guardsmen. The tension in the air was palpable. The hard edge around his eyes told me that Montross recognized the threat he was now facing. The Guardsmen had recovered from their shock, and the resentment and hatred was setting in. They were simmering like a kettle on the edge of boiling. At any moment an itchy trigger could initiate a blood bath.

"Wish you were back in the town" I muttered, coming up beside him. The Commissar did not spare me a glance. His lips barely moved as he answered, hand gripping his pistol tightly.

"My duty is here" he growled. "Anything less would be dishonor and disloyalty."

I gave him a tight-lipped smile and nodded. It was a good thing he was not watching my eyes. I had complete faith in the Emperor, but not that much. If the Emperor wanted us throwing away our lives, he could tell us explicitly.

"Where to now?"

"We continue on our mission. With luck we will be able to infiltrate the traitor's lines and find the source of this damned corruption."

"Are the Astartes taking point again?"

"Yes. You and your comrade should stay with the Guardsmen. They are easier to handle when you are with them."

"Adin and I will be much more effective out front," I protested. "We're shock troopers, not babysitters."

"That is not my call" Montross replied, cracking his knuckles slowly. "Sergeant Cyrus requested that his team take the front. They have many more years experience than you do. And their armor and weapons are better."

"But they're bigger targets," I muttered.

The Commissar stepped away from the safety of the tree and glanced over at the lifeless bodies of the traitor Guardsmen. He sniffed once in disgust.

"Pack your gear, Kasrkin. The enemy is waiting."


	4. Checkpoint Traitor

Adin dropped to one knee and signaled that he had enemy contacts. I crouched down where I was, hand already reaching back for the auspex on my rucksack. Collins' ragged breathing filled my ears as my fingers fumbled to unlock the clasp. Brass clicked on brass and the life sign detector dropped into my waiting hand.

"Stay down and don't move" I growled to the young sergeant. Collins nodded empathetically, the strain of nervous tension showing on his face. I regarded him for a moment, offering a reassuring half-smile, then looked down at the green glow of the auspex's screen.

The area ahead was awash in green blobs, indicating the presence of at least a squad's size of troops. I studied the layout of the life signs, searching for a pattern. Only a few were moving, and they were not moving far. It looked like they were walking back and forth.

"What's your take" I whispered, hailing Adin over the vox. The brush did not move up ahead as Adin replied.

"It's a road checkpoint. One tower, one bunker, log wall chest high across the path. I count one in the tower, ditto in the bunker. At least a dozen more at the wall and around a couple tents farther back."

"Are they isolated?"

"I can't tell. There might be more tents farther down the road. This is nothing we can't handle though."

"Good. I'll pass it on. Continue scoping it out. If anything changes, let me know."

I rolled over onto my butt and stared off into the woods behind me. The rest of the part was coming this way, tramping through the forest with little secrecy. Cyrus was the only one in sight. He seemed to have already sensed the men up ahead because he was standing still as a stone, his sniper rifle held snugly in their direction. His good eye blinked once in my direction. His lips were moving but I could not hear what he was saying. It did not matter to me. He was most likely alerting his team.

"Contact up front. Squad sized checkpoint. Do you read me?"

"I read you" Montross replied, his voice crackling loudly on the vox. I dialed the volume down instinctively, shooting a glance towards the enemy position. They were well out of hearing range but it never hurt to be safe. "Have you engaged?"

"No. We are holding our position. How far out are you?"

"We will reach your position in one minute. Keep your heads down and wait for us. I want to see them for myself."

I sat down against the tree, letting my bolter rest in my lap. Collins knelt down beside me. His eyes were glued forward. It had been one day since he had shot the traitor Guardsman in woods. He did not know it, but I had been watching him closely, studying his reaction. So far he had been taking it hard. His sleep was restless and full of nightmares, he ate little and his nerves were on edge.

"Was that your first kill?" I asked quietly, carefully avoiding his gaze. He did not look in my direction, but I saw his jaw tighten.

"No" he whispered. "I'm sure I killed some people back at the town when we were defending the wall."

"But this last one bothers you."

"Yeah."

Collins sighed heavily and sat down. He set his las carbine on the ground and rubbed his hands together as if cold.

"Why? Was he someone special?"

The sergeant shook his head. "Back at the town, there were hundreds of us shooting at hundreds of them. If I killed someone, I could not tell. Seeing a whole field of bodies is one thing. Seeing the body of the man you know you just killed in person is another. The first was self-defense, in the woods felt like murder."

I patted his shoulder sympathetically. He flinched at my touch, ashamed of his weakness.

"How do you do it? How can you face this all without a problem?"

His question was so innocent and naïve that my stomach turned. I shrugged, knowing the answer but not knowing how to explain it to him.

"You get used to it" I told him. "After you've seen a hundred faces… it all blends together."

"A hundred?" Collins eyed me sharply, a stunned glare in his eyes, "How many men have you killed in the past?"

"A lot. I've fought in enough campaigns to realize that it is useless to worry about the men you kill. There are always going to be more. War is in our blood, Collins. It's a poison in all of us, whether we are human or alien. The sooner you accept that the longer you will stay alive out here."

He did not reply for several long seconds. The frown on his face told me that he did not like my words. I did not blame him. It was always hard to accept the killing that came with being a servant in the Guard. When he looked back up at me, he was clearly troubled.

"What does that make me then? A mindless killing machine?"

"No, it makes you a good soldier. Fighting a war is never easy, especially for the men on the ground. You're going to have to get over it sooner or later."

"What if I don't want to?"

My eyebrows furrowed darkly and I fixed him with a warning glare. "Then get out while you can. If you can't face the enemy head on, don't endanger the lives of your mates by making them have to trust you."

The Guardsman's face paled and he leaned back against the tree. I could see the turmoil raging inside his skull. As much as I sympathized with it, this was neither the time nor the place to have a moment of self-revelation. I punched his shoulder lightly and pointed towards Montross and the rest of the squad as they came into view. I was happy to see that at least they were moving carefully and not standing tall like idiots. Montross and Cyrus came up beside us, both staying on their feet. Collins and I rose to our feet and saluted.

"There is a road up ahead, one bunker and one tower, both manned. There are a dozen men manning the checkpoint, with tents and possibly more soldiers farther down the road."

Montross did not appear bothered by the development. His gaze flicked over in the direction of the road and he frowned. "What is the layout to either side?"

"If these guys are following procedure, they're going to have the forest set with motion detectors for miles. The only choice would be to circle far around them, and there is no telling where the next checkpoint is. There is no way to get through this easy."

"And your idea is what?"

I opened my mouth to speak but the vox in Cyrus' ear crackled. He blinked slowly as he listened to a report, then pointed off to the right with his sniper rifle.

"My scouts have found one of the motion detectors. It is a standard piece for your regiment. My team knows how to bypass them."

"Can we all-"

"No. Our armor has special qualities that bend the sensors. We can go through without raising a blip, but you and your men cannot."

Montross nodded slowly. He turned his head from the road ahead to the woods and back. "So our choices are sneaking around and alerting everyone that we are out there or attacking the checkpoint head on."

"If we attack them quickly enough, we can prevent them from getting word out" I chimed in. "It will buy us extra time, maybe even a couple days before they realize where we were."

"And how do you intend to wipe out this checkpoint that quickly? It will take lightning fast work, Kasrkin."

Collins' ears perked up beside me. He took a tentative step forward. "If your men can flank them, sir, we can attack from the front while you sweep in from the rear. A two-directional attack will throw them into chaos."

Montross regarded the young Guardsman with a critical eye, as if noticing him for the first time. Collins swallowed hard, nervous at the man's attention. I stepped in to back up his idea; I had been thinking along the same lines.

"If you can bring your Marines around to those tents and assault any hostiles in there we can lay down a suppressing volley and overwhelm the checkpoint from two directions. All it will take is a couple of well placed shots and some fragmentation grenades. We could finish them off in less than thirty seconds."

"Thirty seconds is a long time for one of them to get a message off."

"No one will get near a long range vox" I assured them. "Adin will locate it and disable it once we commence the assault."

Cyrus nodded his head in approval. "It is a sound enough plan. I will lead my team around to the flank. Are you to initiate the assault?"

"Yes."

I turned to Montross and bowed my head respectfully. "With your permission I will deploy the squad through the woods. After our initial volley we will rush the checkpoint and kill any survivors at close range."

The Commissar tipped his head in support of my plan. "Do with them as you please. I have faith in your tactical knowledge in this matter, Kasrkin."

With his blessing ringing in my ears, I motioned for the Guardsmen to gather around. Several of them looked nervous at the prospect of battle. That was understandable. They had seen a lot of gruesome stuff already, and we were only a couple days into the reconnaissance. But I believed they could pull this off. They were more than ready for it.

As I laid out the plan, pointing the Guardsmen off in the directions they would set up, Adin crept up beside me and added his own details into the mix. It did not take long for us to set the Guardsmen straight. Just to be safe Adin and I led each man to his position. They settled down in the soft earth with little complaint, glad for the respite in our march. It would only be brief, but they knew better than to make the most of it. As we set them down we pointed out targets for them.

Now that I had a clear sight of the checkpoint, I knew that it could be conquered. The tower was a measly two story platform with waist-high log railings. A ramshackle chest-high wall was stretched out across the road, broken only by a span just wide enough to allow a Leman Russ tank through. The only part of the checkpoint that looked formidable was the bunker. It was a typical insta-crete bunker with a thin slit for outgoing fire, a heavy bolter inside, and a low profile. It was so dark inside the bunker that I could not tell how many were in it.

Once the men were placed Montross took his spot. He was on the right flank and would lead the charge on the bunker. Adin would hang back and provide fire support while I led the attack on the wall. It would be a short but bloody fight.

The slide on my bolter clacked softly in my hand as I chambered the first round. Collins was beside me, hands trembling with tension. I paid it no attention. Searching through the targets, I looked for officers or vox operators. From my vantage point I could see none.

"Leon, take the tower guard. He's got a sniper rifle."

The barrel of my bolter inched upwards until the guard in question had his head fit securely in my sights. I studied the face, gathering what little details my eyes could make out at that distance. The man looked ordinary for the most part. The only sign of taint on him was a long crimson scar that ran down from across his left ear to his jaw. It looked painful, but the man had made no attempt at covering or soothing it. He wore it proudly like a battle medal. To accentuate his independence he had replaced his helmet with an olive drab bandana. Hair too long for regulations rested at his shoulders, making him look like some kind of Catachan thug.

"Collins, you and I are taking out the guard on the tower."

The sergeant nodded his head obediently, voice muffled by clenched teeth. His carbine jerked upwards, aiming in the direction of the tower. The barrel was swaying more that it should have.

"Ready when you are, Adin."

Adin gave me time to take a breath before he fired. The sharp crack of his sniper rifle split the air like lightning. I was sure that he had hit his target, but I was already firing. The bolter kicked against my shoulder, shaking my aim. Blinded by the muzzle flash, I held the trigger for only a second. Then I released the trigger and rolled to my left, shifting position before anyone could pinpoint my location.

When I came to a halt, I looked back for my target and readied my weapon. The tower was a mess. Chunks of wood rained down around it, propelled by the explosive shells of my bolter. A stunned figure crouched behind the railing, head and rifle peeking out as the man struggled to return fire. He could hardly get a shot off. Collins was pumping fire into the tower, spraying the area around the guard with sizzling heat beams.

I hesitated before firing, taking in the scope of the firefight that had broken out around me. Laser beams flooded the air, fling back and forth as loyalists and traitors alike fought for their lives. There were no bodies visible, they were all hidden behind the wall, but it looked like the first volley had taken a heavy toll on the men.

Satisfied that the battle was in hand, I locked back onto the sniper in the tower and unleashed a punishing burst on the man's cover. Splinters exploded in all directions, peppering the men below the tower. I put a dozen or more rounds into the wall. When I stopped, the figure was gone, as was a good portion of the wall. Collins put a couple more rounds into the hole before turning his attention to the wall.

"Go now, go now!"

Adin's urgent tone told me something was wrong. I did not hesitate, but threw myself to my feet and ran. Startled cries echoed behind me as the Guardsmen around me scrambled to follow my example. My boots pounded through the dirt, sinking enough to throw off my gait.

A handful of shots were zipped in my direction as I sprinted across the gap between the trees and the wall. Two men were directly in front of me, protected by the wall. I leveled my bolter on them and fired sweeping bursts at their chest height, sending explosive bolts ripping through the logs. One man staggered backwards, a spray of blood coming from his torso. The other dove to the side, disappearing behind safer cover. I did not waste shots seeking him out. Instead I ripped a fragmentation grenade from my combat webbing and lobbed it up in the air. It landed just behind the wall.

The thunderous explosion flattened a two-foot stretch of the wall. Logs tumbled and rolled across the ground, leaving a gap in the traitor's defenses. I did not aim for the gap but slid to the spot next to it. Collins slammed into the wall beside me, eyes wide and breathing harshly. He clutched his carbine in a death grip.

"What's the situation, Adin?"

There was a short pause before he answered. The piercing crack of his sniper rifle filled the void between our voices. The heavy bolter opened fire in response. I watched a trail of tracer rounds streak into the trees.

"That's the situation" Adin snarled. I winced as a whole tree was sliced in half by the fire and collapsed into the woods. Heavy bolters could put out some nasty damage.

"I'll get it."

Sliding around Collins, I hugged the wall and rushed towards the bunker. The hail of fire pouring into the woods was terrible. I saw at least two helmets inside the bunker through the blazing muzzle flashes. They did not notice me as I pressed against the side of the bunker and reached for another grenade.

I did not have to pull it. Before I could, Commissar Montross appeared at the other side of the firing slit. His right hand came up, pistol at the ready. Firing with mechanical precision, he put two rounds into each helmet. The bodies fell away and the bolter stopped firing. I shot him a glance from across the firing slit. He cast me a confident smirk before moving farther along the side out of sight. I did likewise on my side, rising to a standing position with my back to the bunker.

The rest of the Guardsmen were at the walls. Some were firing on the now-fleeing traitors with abandon, but a few were huddled down behind the cover. Collins was one of those men. He sat against the wall, las carbine cradled in his hands, muttering quietly to himself. I saw the crazed look in his eyes and shook my head in disappointment. There was no time to focus on that though. I snapped my bolter to my shoulder and fired at the running men. One was hit square in the back. His feet lifted off the ground for an instant. The impact sent the man skidding face first across the road.

Switching targets, I watched a man get hit from two directions by las fire. His body jerked and twisted with the blows until his legs gave out and he landed in the dust in a heap. I looked past the man and shot his next comrade. A trio of bolts blew the man's leg clean off his body. His agonized screams were cut short by a hail of las fire.

An armored body came up next to me. It was Adin. He had his sniper rifle slung and was shooting with a las rifle. I did not think to ask where he had found it. We focused our fire on a third man, bringing him down in one volley. Ours were the last shots fired. A dreadful silence replaced the screams and gunfire, coming so suddenly that my skin crawled. There were no cries for help, no moaning wounded. The utter stillness should have unnerved me. It did not; I was too used to this.

Adin stepped carefully past me and entered the bunker. I followed but stayed outside. Montross came around from the other side and eyed me critically.

"Sergeant Cyrus reports that his team has neutralized one squad in the tents. They are searching for anything that can be of value as we speak."

"That's good."

Something hard rebounded off my boot as I traced a circle in the road. Looking down, I saw the fallen helmet of a traitor Guardsman. Curious, I bent down and picked it up. It had a fist-sized hole blown out the back with bits of gore and blood clinging to the metal. It was Adin's work. When I held it up for Montross to inspect he sniffed casually at it and glanced back towards the trees.

"How many did we lose?"

It took Montross a moment as his eyes drifted across the battlefield. "Two."

Following his gaze, I turned to see a pair of mutilated bodies lying between the trees and the wall. They were close together, but their bodies were thrown in different directions. The heavy bolter had caught them in the open and torn them to ribbons. There was no chance that they were still alive.

"Nasty way to bite it. At least it was quick."

"Indeed."

Adin exited the bunker with an ammo belt slung over his shoulder. He called one of the Guardsmen over and tossed it lightly. The man took the ammo belt gratefully and set about distributing the ammunition to his comrades.

"Clean sweep, Commissar. They did not get a word off."

"I take it your shooting skills are responsible for that."

"Yes sir."

The armored hulks of the Space Marines came loping our way out of the tent area. Their chainswords let off smoking trails and dripped crimson rain on the roadside. Red armor was scratched and dented from hostile fire, but they were otherwise unscathed. Cyrus held a large satchel in his left hand.

"There was another squad sleeping in the tents" Cyrus announced as he and his men walked up to them. "No one got the alarm off."

"So we are still hidden then. I vote we leave the bodies and clear out of here as fast we can."

"Leave the bodies?"

Montross' face soured at the idea. I understood what bothered him. Traditional Imperial tactics for missions such as these called for stealth until the last moment. In an attack such as this, the regulations said to hide the bodies and continue on. As a Commissar, he had those rules ingrained so deeply into his personality that he could hardly fathom doing otherwise.

"Whether we hide the bodies or not, they will know that we were here." I swept my hand across the battlefield dramatically. "There is no way to hide this carnage without many hours of work, and that is time that we do not have. Also, with the patrol already killed and the swamp attack, we have left a wake of death that any skilled tactician will pick up on."

"So what are you suggesting? Are you saying we should drop all pretenses and charge ahead rifles blazing?"

"No, I think we should leave this checkpoint as a message. Continue on ahead a few miles, then start curling our route farther south. We will create a new path, one that does not follow our original path. If we continue in the path we have been travelling they will intercept us eventually. But if we change our route we have a chance to avoid the enemy net that is going to be throw out after us."

"That is a sound enough plan," Cyrus agreed, nodding slightly. "We will throw our enemy a bone to send them off in the wrong direction while we continue on towards our objective."

"With luck we can avoid further incidents like this" Adin added. "Another shootout like this and we won't be on a recon mission anymore."

Montross looked us in the eye one at a time. I could see the myriad of thoughts swirling in his consciousness like water in a tidal pool. He mulled over the solution for a minute before giving his approval.

"Let us be off. I want to be long gone and all traces cold of our passage when someone comes to check on this place."

The Guardsmen leapt to their orders as Montross turned and began barking at them. Some went to scavenge supplies from their comrades while the others continued on towards the tents. We would follow the road for a good distance to clear any sensor fields in the woods. I watched Collins out of the corner of my eye as we moved. His hands were still glued to his las carbine. He stopped at the foot of the watchtower, gazing down into the white face of a fallen traitor. He stood there for a long time, motionless, before slowly slinging his las carbine and joining the rest of the others on the path.

"Watch that one" Adin muttered quietly, his face hidden behind his visor. "He's stretching towards the breaking point."

I shook my head, wishing Adin to be wrong. In all my years of knowing him though, he had never been wrong.


	5. Unexpected guest

Adin was watching me. I refused to look his way, but I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. He knew I hated it when he did this. There was a reason why I preferred to feel alone when scouting. That eerie sense of knowing when someone was watching you did not help when your partner was the one doing it. It was distracting.

My auspex was clear ahead. That was good. We were only five miles from the checkpoint, but I was still taking precautions. If the traitors were following protocol still they would have an even ring of checkpoints spread through the woods. Our path should have put us behind them, but there was no telling how thorough or close-to-doctrine they were. That unknown quality is what kept me on my toes when I could have been relaxing.

"Kasrkin, what is you status?"

Montross had kept in close contact, never giving me more than ten minutes between checkup calls. He had been exceedingly cautious now that we could assume that the rebels knew we were coming. It was irritating dealing with his constant calls, but I humored him. Better to have a cautious leader than a stupid one in a mission like this.

"Clear ahead. What news from the Astartes?"

"Our flanks are clear on both sides. Continue down this line for another half mile, then we will cut across the forest deeper inland."

"Roger that."

Adin crept up beside me, keeping crouched low to the earth as he moved. The soft glow of his helmet lights cast eerie shadows through the darkened forest floor. I relayed Montross' message to him and gestured for him to take point. We switched off every thirty minutes, giving the other a break from the tense alertness needed while walking point.

There were no regular Guardsmen with us. Collins was back with his squadmates, taking a much-needed rest. The checkpoint encounter had shown me just how thinly he was stretched. His psyche had taken a beating over the past few days. It was bad enough that I did not want him out front with us. There was no telling how he would respond to scouting. The pressure could easily be enough to make him snap.

I unconsciously looked to the left as we traveled further. The Space Marines were out there somewhere, covering our flanks. As relieving as it was to have powerful warriors like that in the shadows, keeping us safe, I found myself wishing that I could see the familiar drab-camo suits of fellow Kasrkin. The Space Marines' stealth left a feeling of aloneness out walking point. I felt alone without allied bodies in sight. It was not a good feeling.

Adin's armored form crept through the trees like a jungle predator, flitting from shadow to shadow, never straying into the thin beams of light that broke through the tree canopy. He kept his sniper rifle raised to his shoulder. Not content to rely on his sharp eyes and visor-enhanced lighting, he used his rifle's scope to scan the edges of the trees.

The trees were thicker here than near the swamps. Ash-gray trunks as wide as Ogryn bodies dotted the forest floor, surrounded by thicker clusters of sapling shoots that resisted my touch with the strength of iron beams. I tested one as I passed, feeling the smooth but unyielding surface of the wood with awe. I had seen some of these trees impaled in the ground before the walls of the city. It was not until this moment that I realized just how effective that simple barrier had been. A man running too quickly could easily be skewered on the sharpened edge of one of these trees.

It also explained the small batons that many soldiers carried strapped to their calves. In addition to the standard combat knives attached at some point to their armor, many sergeants and officers, as well as a large number of regular troopers, had a decorated baton. I had little doubt that the batons were made of the same material as these trees.

My curiosity got the best of me as tree after tree passed by. Drawing my knife, a blade forged in the foundries of Mars, I grabbed a thin but straight branch of a sapling and hacked at the base of the branch. It took ten blows from my razor-sharp knife to detach the branch. When it gave way, the cut was clean as a sheet of silk. Amazed, I put my knife away and examined the stick. It was no larger than my forearm, half an inch thick at the widest, but I could not bend it with all my strength.

I vowed to whittle the stick into a baton similar to that which the native soldiers carried before I left the planet. It would take a while, I was sure of that, but when I finished it would be a fine weapon to carry, if not a trophy to admire and show off in other corners of the galaxies. None of the men on the recon team had batons. I wondered if they held some kind of special meaning or status with the armed forces of the planet.

Adin stopped at the half-mile mark. Dropping to one knee, he turned back and signaled the all-clear. I abandoned my cautious approach and jogged forward, careful to not trip on one of the iron-hard saplings that grew thickly from the ground. One caught on my steel-toed boot and I winced. It hurt even through a solid half inch of steel.

"What are you waiting for" I asked quietly. Adin held up one finger and waved it in a circle.

"The Astartes are coming back in. Montross wants a meeting before we continue."

A low growl started up in my throat but I choked it down. If Montross wanted a meeting then whining would do no good. It was his choice to make, not mine. I doubted he would care for my concern of stopping in the midst of enemy territory for a talk anyway. Experienced as I was, I was just a merc, a tag-a-long to this band of misfit scouts. My voice only counted so far.

Montross did not keep us waiting. Less than a minute passed before we heard the collected tramp of hard boots. The squad of Guardsmen moved forward in a loose column, picking their individual ways through the trees. Collins was at the front, leading by example. I studied his face carefully as he drew closer. His lips were drawn tightly together and his face was the ashen. He did not look me in the eyes, but kept his gaze on the ground. His spirits were low.

None of his men were willing to meet my scrutiny either. A few looked confident and encouraged now that they had blood on their hands. Most of them appeared as timid as before. It was easy to see just how backwater this planet was when examining the troops. They just were not accustomed to bloodshed.

The commissar did not give me much time to dwell on this revelation. Gesturing imperiously, he ordered the squad to halt and strode away from the cluster of grey uniforms. Adin and I moved to intercept him, relaxing our guards now that we had a full squad covering our backs. The bulky outlines of the Astartes scouts crept into view from our left and right, drifting towards us with silent and fluid movements. Cyrus' cybernetic eye glowed for a bare second as he approached, identifying him from the rest of his squad. He met us twenty feet from the rest of the soldiers, his sniper rifle clutched firmly in his hands.

"We are far enough from the checkpoint to return to our course" Cyrus observed, ending any discussion of that fact before it became an issue. "We should continue on towards our objective."

"You are right, Sergeant Cyrus. It is time to wheel left. The traitors could not follow our trail any farther. If my readings are correct the forest ends in the sea if we go much farther southwest. This is an excellent turning point."

Adin tilted his head a fraction, letting me know that we were not going to be needed for any real decisions. I inclined my head in return. The motion went unnoticed by the commissar, but Cyrus noted it with a slight gleam in his eye.

"Do you have something to say, Kasrkin?"

Montross did not miss a beat at Cyrus' unexpected question. He faced me smartly, eyes glittering intelligently. Clearly, he realized that I had been communicating with Adin without letting him know. A glare flashed across his eyes, then it was gone.

"Yes, do you have input?"

Shrugging submissively, I took a step backwards. "Nope. I just think we should get moving. Unless we have a strategic matter to discuss about how to advance, we are wasting time. I would rather we find hard shelter before the sun falls."

"Very well." The anger faded to an irritated frown, and Montross turned to Cyrus. "We proceed in the same fashion as before. Astartes guarding our flanks, where we are most vulnerable. The Kasrkin will lead. Do you agree, Sergeant Cyrus?"

The massive Space Marine nodded his assent. "I have faith in the skills of the Kasrkin, commissar. They will not fail us."

"Do we stop at nightfall?"

Montross waved his hand absently. "At your discretion. If it is growing dark and you find a suitable location to sleep, we will stop there. If not, we push on."

"Roger that." I dropped to a crouch, giving my legs a stretch. "I will take point. Adin follow at a regular interval. If anyone makes contact fall back to tight intervals. We get caught in a piecemeal firefight and we'll be cut to pieces."

Four pairs of eyes sought each other out, acknowledging the others' consent. No words were spoken. Detaching from the rest, we went back to our respective units. I took a moment to examine our surroundings, gauging the forest ahead of us. There were mountains ahead. They were far off, beyond the day's travel, but we would hit them eventually. From the intelligence I had gleaned off of reports and accounts that was where the enemy was. Those mountains were the core of the rebellion. If there was a head to this farce, it was there.

"Enjoying the view' Adin asked, sidling up beside me. I shrugged halfheartedly. My mind was peculiarly at ease. It happened to me from time to time like this. I was always most calm when the tension was highest. It was a gift and a curse, making me stick out from my fellow soldiers when in combat. Adin had been around me long enough to recognize the subtle changes in my body language that came with the feeling. The Medicae had no explanation for this, other than a personality quirk.

Kairi told me differently. Kaira was Inquisitor Lord Verne's apprentice, his prized pupil. We had first met on Verne's barge, where she and her Inquisitor Lord introduced themselves and our mission. Upon discovering my condition she had devoted countless days to studying it and how it could be used. In her studies she discovered many of the side effects that accompanied Blank people. Inexplicable mood swings were among the common side effects.

"Yeah, I'm in the sweet spot" I muttered. Adin nodded and patted my back reassuringly.

"Thinking about her?"

"We're due to report back to her in a month, right?"

"You looking forward to it?"

I shot Adin an exasperated look. "I don't know, Adin. Who doesn't look forward to boarding the barge of a ruthless and diehard Inquisitor?"

"Right. Let's leave that for later."

Nodding my thanks, I brushed past him and started off into the woods. Letting him see my face would have let him know just how bothered I was by that prospect. Every time we set foot on the Inquisitor's ship I felt a piece of my being torn away and cast into the warp. It was a dark and foul place, in the bowels of Inquisition territory. The weak-willed could be driven to madness just by prolonged exposure to the oppressive atmosphere of the ships.

The meeting with Kairi would not be pleasant either. She was demanding and harsh. Not a meeting went by that did not see her trying to revoke our Mandate and roll us back into the folds of the Inquisition. Those arguments grew heated and dangerous. Sidearms had been drawn before in her presence.

Just the thought of having to go back to that barge ruined any calm that had collected in my mind. Tension and apprehension flooded my veins, making me alert and ready for trouble. Holding my bolter close to my waist, I crept forward through the forest. Adin waited an appropriate time before following. I could not hear his steps as he walked in the same prints that I left.

Adin gradually drifted farther back as we moved. Left with some breathing room, I allowed myself to pour my energy into drowning out the voices in my head. The doubts and hopes faded from the background of my thoughts. A blissful silence settled in my head. No longer confused by the internal workings of my heart and mind, my hearing sharpened as tightly as a razor. The quiet movements of forest creatures magnified, echoing loudly in my ears when they should have been little more than whispers.

An hour drifted by, dragging on like an eternity in the still forest. Our only change of course came when one of the Astartes scouts on the left flank announced the detection of motion sensors. I shifted our course around the defenses, smoothly bypassing them and leading us into quieter territory. The mountains loomed closer with each passing minute. The scale of them was inspiring. The smallest peak would have dwarfed the mightiest Titan by several lengths. In my travels I had seen plenty of manmade structures perhaps as tall, but never in the universe had I seen a natural mountain so high. I was startled by the majestic stature of the mountains.

There were towering spires in many hive worlds that could have reached far beyond these, but those took decades to build. These mountains had formed in the beginning of time, free of sculpting or direction. It took my breath away to see the sheer power that radiated out from those peaks. Gentle coats of purest snow covered them from halfway up, shining brilliantly in the sun.

I was so entranced by the sight that I nearly missed the telltale silence that fell on the forest. Lizards that had before been content to spy on me from distant perches turned tail and scuttled off into hidden recesses of bark and earth. A flock of low-flying birds dropped from the branches of the taller trees and whipped past me, hurtling with reckless speed past the maze of tree trunks into the distance.

Warned by the sudden shift in their movements, I ducked behind a thick tree and palmed the vox unit against my ear.

"Possible contact. Cease movement, prepare to engage" I hissed. My voice barely reached past my own ears, but it felt thunderous and revealing. Adin was far enough behind me that he was out of sight, but I knew that he was crawling forward to give me cover should I need it. If it came to blows, whatever was coming towards us, I would have at least one gun behind me.

The words had barely left my mouth when I shut off my vox. I did not need Montross' response alerting any enemy to my position. I dropped instinctively to a half-crouch, pressing my left side against the smooth surface of the tree. The heavy barrel of my bolter pressed against my thigh. It had not been long since I had fired it, but I found my finger caressing the cold metal trigger eagerly.

Ears straining, I listened for sounds that would betray the advance of whatever lay ahead. At first there was nothing, just dead silence ahead. Then came the crashing of a body through brush and my body tensed like an oiled spring. Adrenal glands flooded my veins with liquid energy, sharpening my reflexes to the point that I counted my heartbeats in my chest.

Waiting patiently for the noise to grow louder, I was surprised to not hear the clatter of combat boots, but the soft rasp of bare feet on leaves. The noise pattern was fast and ragged, as if the intruder was running wildly. It was only one person too. Puzzled, I felt myself relax a hairsbreadth. One person would not be much of a worry. At worst, it would be a stormtrooper, and one shot from a bolter would take out an armored Guardsman without a problem.

The padding of feet drew closer. Something snapped loudly and I heard a faint and breathless curse. It was short and biting, too quick for me to catch a gender or accent. It was close though. The intruder would pass close to my tree. I set my bolter down carefully. It would be close enough for a knife or pistol, whichever I ended up needing.

The runner slowed down. Staggering footfalls pounded into the soft earth as it approached me. I waited without a sound. My right hand crept up my chest, fingering the hilt of my combat knife with itching preparedness. In one smooth move I could have the knife out and ready to slit the throat of the intruder. Harsh breathing rumbled in my ear as the intruder stalked up to the tree. A grey shoulder lurched into view and I dove for it.

My left hand shot out and latched onto the near shoulder at the same time that my right hand whipped my knife out and flipped it into a reverse grip. Yanking hard, I wrenched the startled trooper off of his feet and threw him against the tree. A loud gasp tickled my ears as the wind was driven from the trooper's lungs. Snapping my armed hand up, I jammed the blade of my knife against the warm and yielding flesh of the trooper's throat. My eyes swept the body in an instant, looking for weapons and equipment without consciously pinpointing anything specific.

What struck me first was how dirty and ragged the uniform was. Dirty bare feet poked out from underneath a pair of oversized and muddy trousers. The left pant leg was ripped from running through brambles and the right was slit from ankle to knee. The blouse was in worse shape, with one sleeve torn off and the other sliced through several times over. Half of the buttons on the front were gone, leaving the rest snapped haphazardly to the wrong notches. A sweat-stained undershirt was clearly visible beneath the unfastened collar.

There were no weapons anywhere. On the contrary, not even the whole uniform was there. No socks, boots, belt, armor or cover of any kind were present. Clearly, this was a runner, a deserter. Looking higher up, I studied the face before me.

Terrified emerald eyes as wide as saucers regarded me in voiceless horror. A tangled and filthy mass of blonde hair covered half of the trooper's face, but there was no mistaking the sharp angles and soft lips of a woman. Weak hands slapped uselessly against my breastplate.

"Don't make a sound" I growled, allowing myself to lean in until our noses nearly touched. The trooper's face drained of color at the menace in my voice. She inhaled sharply, fighting to draw air back into her body. I eased off on the knife, pulling it off her skin, but not giving her any room to move her head. Her eyes followed mine unflinchingly. They were filled with fear.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. One hand gripped my wrist pathetically and tried to pull it away. I shook her ever so slightly, shrugging the hand off, and repeated my questions. The trooper tried to speak again, but no sound broke the plane of her lips.

Frustrated, but understanding, I released her and took a step back. Expecting her to lean against the tree for support, I was surprised to see her collapse to the ground. The trooper made no move to get up. She lay there quietly, sprawled in the fetal position like a helpless baby.

I watched for a moment, gauging her body language to she was real or faking it. From the condition she had looked to be in, I doubted she was faking it. She looked completely battered and exhausted. Still, it paid to be wary. Crouching slowly, I knelt by her side and listened. Her body trembled with silent sobs. She was crying.

Unsure of how to proceed, I stood up and looked around. Adin was still out of sight, but I knew he could see me. Waving casually, I signaled to him that the coast was clear. A shadowy figure rose from the cover of a thick bush thirty yards away, an Astartes scout. He nodded in my direction and pressed a hand to the side of his head, no doubt informing the rest of the team that the threat was gone.

Turning back to the trooper, I sat down beside her and pulled one of my canteens from my belt. I unscrewed the cap and took a sip, grimacing as the brackish liquid oozed down my throat. It was not refined water, but it would do in a pinch. I took another sip to wet my throat and set it down beside the prone trooper.

"Get a drink, soldier. I'm not going to hurt you."

One arm lifted gingerly off the ground, revealing the startled green eyes of the trooper. She gazed from my face to the water, surprise etched in her features. I offered the canteen, scooting it across the ground towards her. Her body tensed as my hand drew closer.

"Go on" I encouraged her. "You look thirsty."

Pushing herself up onto her knees, she scooped up the canteen and clutched it protectively to her chest. Scared eyes looked me over, widening even more at my armor. She held the canteen numbly for a moment, her mouth hanging half-open in wonder.

"You aren't… you're not Uthreme" she stammered. Her voice was hoarse and cracked, the product of a dry throat. I flashed her a gentle smile and nodded reassuringly. The dirt on her face was streaked with tears, whether of fear or joy I did not know.

"No, I'm from off-world."

Nodding to herself, she raised the canteen and took a careful sip. I waited for her to flinch or recoil at the stale taste, but she had barely wet her lips when she started guzzling the canteen down. Gulping loudly, she downed the canteen in seconds, greedily sucking the water into her mouth with little care for the excess that splashed against her face and clothes. She must have been severely dehydrated.

I studied her while she drank, now that I could see her full form. My first assessment had been correct in that she had no weapons or equipment of any kind. A faded blue stripe ran down the side of her trousers, marking the rank of a senior NCO, but the right shoulder of her blouse had the epaulet markings of a junior officer. Her dogtags were gone, but I could see the faintest tan line where they had once been. She was a slim girl. Her figure barely showed under the shoddy uniform. I wondered how old she was. The Uthreme people matured slower than most, hitting puberty in their late teen years. It was entirely possible this one was only a few years into adulthood.

When she finished the canteen she wiped her mouth and handed the canteen back. Regarding me with cautious eyes, she cleared her throat and sat back against the tree. She curled her feet up in front of her chest and hugged them protectively.

"Who are you" she asked, eyeing my armor with confusion.

"Leon" I told her, extending a hand. She glanced down at it nervously. I could tell that she was afraid, like a deer in the sights of a hunter.

"Are you with the Loyalists or the Furies?"

The nervous emphasis on the word Furies caught my attention. She blanched at the word, but covered her discomfort quickly. Her legs tensed beneath the dirty trousers of her uniform as if expecting to have to spring up and run. I casually leaned back, finding the handle of my bolter, and locked eyes with her.

"I serve the God-Emperor, the savior and leader of mankind."

The tension melted away from her body in an instant. Relief broke through the dirt and mud on her face, revealing an exhausted smile of perfect white teeth. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a prayer of thanks.

"The Emperor protects" she murmured reverently. Staggering to her feet, she stood as straight as her tired limbs allowed and threw a weary salute. I could tell from the effort in her face that only the pride in her heart kept her up. Not wanting to embarrass or shame her, I leapt to my feet as well and returned the salute, as well as offering my arm for her to lean on.

"What unit are you with? I have never seen your armor before."

Her legs gave out as she spoke, buckling from exhaustion. I slipped my arm around her waist and guided her back to the ground carefully, not wanting to see her hurt.

"I am a Cadian, former member of the 8th and the Kasrkin Corps."

"Cadian?"

Emerald eyes sparkled with hope at the name. She sat up a little straighter, eyeing me with undisguised elation.

"Cadians? Here on Uthreme? What are- how could we-"

I cut her off, raising an armored hand to silence her.

"Former Kasrkin. I am here supporting the Loyalist forces along with my partner."

The elation that had been on her face evaporated. Shock crept across her features, mirroring the dashed hopes inside her.

"Oh."

"Cadian forces would have been preferable…" I began, seeing the large hulking forms of Astartes scouts break through the trees coming our way. "But my partner and I are not the only ones lending a hand to stop this uprising."

I gently turned her around, letting her see the imposing armored figure of Cyrus as he drew near and stopped five feet away. Her face was turned away, but I felt her body freeze like a stuck Pjun lizard. Cyrus looked down at her, critiquing her silently. I patted her shoulder reassuringly and gave Cyrus a thumbs-up.

"The finest warriors of the Imperium are here to end this heresy and restore order."

The trooper moved out of my reach, drawing near the towering Astartes warrior with fearful reverence. She bowed her head low to the ground, whispering hushed praises to the Emperor at the unforeseen turn of luck that had come her way. I stood up slowly and gestured to her with my bolter.

"She's loyal, Cyrus. Knocked around and tired, but loyal. A redeemed soul perhaps?"

The trooper glanced up at me, her hair whipping off of her face and behind her neck, letting me see the whole of her face for the first time. Caked with dirt as it was, there was no denying the elegant structure of her face, nor the breathtaking beauty of the well-formed lips. I had seen similar faces during the one day I had spent in the capital before deploying with the rest of the army. She was of noble birth.

"I never wavered in my faith" she countered, her whole body trembling in awe at the mighty presence of the superhuman warrior before her. "I was taken by the traitors when they rebelled."

Cyrus glanced towards our rear, where the scattered forms of the Guardsmen squad was jogging into view. Montross and Adin were at the head. I watched them for a moment before settling my gaze on the trooper. She had also looked that direction. On seeing the grey uniforms of the Guardsmen, a soft whimper tore itself from her throat and she scrambled backwards, falling over in panic.

"No…" she moaned, "no, no, not them. Please, not them!"

I knelt and grabbed her gently, wrapping my arms around her shoulder protectively. "It's ok, they are friends. Loyalists."

She looked up at me and I saw the raging fires of terror swirling inside her shining eyes. There was much pain and fear there, trapped inside. I did not know where it came from, but I understood that she had encountered something that left her terrified of Guardsmen.

"No, they're not men. They're animals! Filthy, terrible, monstrous… oh Emperor save me!"

"Shh…"

I held her tightly, pressing her head against the crook of my neck. Flicking my vox unit on, I spat out a quick order to Montross.

"Commissar, tell the Guardsmen to stop and hang back. I'll explain in a minute."

The commissar's reply was not long in coming. I saw him half turn and gesture with his powerfist. The Guardsmen lurched to a halt and stood around quietly, all looking this way with interest. Montross and Adin continued forward, leaving them behind. I heard Montross bark out an order and the men dispersed, taking up positions in a small circle.

She calmed down a little once they had stopped coming closer. Clutching my shoulders for support, the trooper managed to stand up and face the two remaining newcomers. I felt her body quake at the sight of the commissar. That was to be understood. Commissars had a nasty reputation everywhere the name was spoken. Especially when dealing with traitors, whether real or suspect, they were quick judges and eager executioners.

Recovering faster than I had expected though, she regained a rough sense of composure and faced Montross with a steady countenance. I shifted over so that I was on her side, supporting her back and arm with my hands. She would not fall, but she had some measure of her own strength holding her up. It allowed her some pride in the face of a judging officer.

"Commissar" she muttered, her voice full of respect.

"State your name and rank, trooper" Montross ordered, appearing unfazed by her appearance. I felt the trooper stiffen at the brusqueness of his tone. A touch of pride slipped into her voice as she answered.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Jara Kreas, Valkyrie's Fist, 42nd Uthreme Guard."

The unit meant nothing to me, but I saw a flash of recognition cross Montross' eyes. It came and went so quickly that I thought for a moment I was seeing things. Then the gleam was gone, replaced by the ubiquitous commissar glare.

"Executive Officer of the female-only unit" Adin informed me. I shot him a sidelong glance, wondering how he knew that and I did not. The answer was obvious before I had to think hard. So that was what he had looked up on my recorder.

"Where is your unit, Lieutenant Kreas?"

Lieutenant Kreas swallowed hard. I felt her chest heave as she fought for a breath. Montross waited impatiently for an answer. The fingers of his right hand tapped rhythmically against the butt of his pistol. He wore his commissar's iron mask well. There was no telling what thoughts were going on behind his piercing orbs.

When she did not answer immediately Montross repeated his question. He took a small step forward, drawing himself up to his full height. Towering over her like a Sentinel, she shrank against my arm. We were all startled when she burst into tears.


	6. Last chance to turn back

Montross called the reconnaissance team to a halt. It was late in the day and Cyrus had an inkling that this was the safest location to spend the night for hours. While the Guardsmen set up camp and formed a perimeter I sat the lieutenant down and waited for her crying to stop. She cried hard for a solid five minutes. When she told us her story I understood why.

"The Commissars were the first ones to go" she told us, her voice weak and cracked. "Then the men came for us. Some of us tried to fight them off. The men beat them to death, tied up the rest of us and dragged us to an animal pen."

Montross and Cyrus stood by listening quietly, their faces masked in cold indifference. Without the benefit of a helmet, I was the only one showing visible sympathy to the bedraggled officer. That being the case, she focused her attention on me.

"When someone finally came for us, they told us… they told us that we were not deserving of our uniforms, that only men should wear the Guard uniform."

Her voice broke and she started crying again. Nodding slowly, I touched her gently on the shoulder and offered her some water. Something told me that anything more would not be good for her. I was pretty sure I knew where this was going.

"They took our uniforms away" she cried, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "Left us naked in animal filth."

Adin's radio was turned off, but I could see a sudden tension build in his stance. His fingers tightened too firmly on the grip of his sniper rifle. I understood his reaction completely.

"And then, then they took us out of the pen and…"

She got no further. Her body quivered suddenly in unnatural shakes and she fell forward onto her hands and knees. I barely had time to scramble out of the way and to her side before she started vomiting on the grass. In between heaves she made whimpering noises that sounded more animal than human.

"Take your time" I told her when she struggled to sit up again. Her whole body trembled and she made rasping noises when she breathed in. Unscrewing the lid of my second canteen, I handed it to her and ordered her to sip at the water. She had already drained one canteen, and I did not want her to empty the other, as beat as she was. We would need that water later. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"Don't make her say it" Adin's voice growled in my ear. The venom in his voice took me aback. "Let her have some dignity."

I looked up at Cyrus and Monross, who nodded their assent. They knew the look of a broken soul when they saw one. Choosing to lead her thoughts away from that, I directed my questions elsewhere.

"Did you see who was behind this revolt" I asked quietly, taking care to not let my voice carry far. The Guardsmen pretended to not be interested in the conversation we were having, but more than one pair of eyes darted towards us regularly.

"It wasn't human" she gasped, her voice even worse than before. "I don't know what it was. One time, I was taken… there was a crashed ship. These _things_ were around it. Terrible things, that I… I can't… I don't know what they were. But there were horns, tentacles, teeth, and… and _evil_."

"Were they Chaos demons?"

She nodded her head slowly. "They must have been. I have never seen something so terrible."

I thought she was done, and turned to Montross, but she sat up suddenly and stared at Cyrus with serious eyes. Lifting a hand dramatically, she pointed straight towards him.

"And there were some like you."

Cyrus, to his credit, did not so much as twitch. Montross' face twisted in a snarl, but he recovered his composure quickly. I felt a chill settle on my spine as her eyes welled with fresh tears.

"Like me" Cyrus asked in a flat tone. "You saw members of the Astartes among the Chaos spawn?"

"Like you, but not" the lieutenant whispered. "They were blue and gold, wearing heavier armor than you. They were led by a monster, an armored one with a black staff."

"Blue and gold" Cyrus repeated, staring off into the distance. A hard edge came to his face and he took a step forward. The lieutenant shrank back at his approach, but when he came before her she stood up and looked up at him with shaking limbs.

"Yes. They all wore helmets. The… the one with the staff seemed to be commanding them all."

Her revelation did not seem that important to me, but Cyrus' brows furrowed and he turned away. I heard him talking then, but not to any of us. He was broadcasting on the satellite vox channel. That bothered me. No Astartes would risk detection in a situation like this unless the need was dire.

"How did you escape" Montross demanded. He had not said a word since asking for her name and rank. Cyrus did not seem to be paying attention anymore, so there would be nothing to gain from waiting. Choosing to focus on the present, I watched for her answer.

"One of the men grew careless" she answered, her voice bitter. "He took me alone to his tent and I killed him."

"By yourself?"

"It was an accident" she insisted, her eyes growing scared. "I was just trying to fight him off. But he fell and hit his head…"

"And you ran" I finished for her, seeing the panic growing in her voice. "You did the right thing."

"I was so scared."

"Shh," I told her, grabbing her shoulders to calm her down. "You don't have to be scared now. You're safe here, with friends."

"Where is the camp" Cyrus asked. His voice was unusually emotional for a Space Marine. I glanced his way and saw that his face was as calm as ever. That subtle show told me just how much the situation had changed. My gut twisted in a knot at the prospect of the sudden unknowns. Facing a few crazy Guardsmen was one thing, fighting corrupted Chaos Marines was an entirely different matter. If we were going up against that we would need a lot more firepower.

"I don't know how far I've been running" she told me with an apologetic frown. "But it's been two nights since I ran away. I think I have been running west the entire time."

"Two days east then," Adin muttered. "Works for me. Any outposts or smaller camps between us and them?"

"None, I think." Her eyebrows furrowed darkly as she thought through the question. "I did not run into anyone else."

"Good." I turned to face the Commissar and Space Marine. "We can make that in maybe a day. But…"

I let my voice trail off, but I pointedly glanced at the Lieutenant. The look on Montross' face said he was keeping his hands clean of this one. Cyrus cocked his head to one side and studied the woman silently.

"We aren't leaving her on her own" Adin growled, voicing his opinion without being asked to. I nodded along with him.

"We can't afford to send her back with any of the Guardsmen" I said. "I don't think she could handle being with them anyways."

"Problem settled then" Adin announced triumphantly. "She's coming with us. Just have to make sure that she is kept out of the fight."

"That might not be possible" I muttered under my breath. Looking down to the Lieutenant, I caught her eye and tilted my head towards Adin. "Do you feel up to coming with us?"

"Please, don't leave me on my own. I will go with you" she pleaded. "I'll carry your gear if I have to, just don't leave me out here."

I patted her comfortingly on the arm. "Don't worry about a thing, Lieutenant. You'll be safe with us. Sit here for a minute. I'm going to go see if any of the guards have some extra clothes."

I left her with Adin and moved to the Guard squad. Montross accompanied me, matching my stride with his own.

"That is not a wise choice," Montross informed me. "She will slow us down and serve as little more than a distraction."

"What would you have us do? Leave her behind? She'd only follow us."

Montross gave me a look that turned my stomach. He tilted his head back in the Lieutenant's direction.

"A bullet would solve all of our problems."

"Shoot her? Is that all they teach you in Commissar School?"

"They teach us to be pragmatic, Kasrkin. I would have thought that you of all people would understand the value of placing the mission first."

"What I learned" I hissed through clenched teeth, "was that the more people come out of a mission alive, the more people you have to watch your back on the next one."

"An admirable sentiment, to be sure."

I broke away from the Commissar and approached the Guard squad. They rose to their feet at his arrival, eyeing him curiously. A few looked as if they were going to ask about the new member of their party, but they wisely kept their mouths shut.

"Who's got an extra pair of trousers" I asked, giving no explanation. A lean guard with the faintest hint of stubble on his chin nodded and began digging into his pack. He produced a spare set of cammies and handed them over. I took them and left without further words. Returning to the young lieutenant, he offered her the clothes and gave her some privacy to change.

She hid behind one of the thicker trees as she changed. I faced partially away, keeping just enough of the tree in sight to make sure she did not have any trouble. When she was done she came back with her old clothes bundled up and tucked under one arm.

"Leave the clothes there" I told her. "By the time anyone comes out here and finds it we'll be long gone."

The lieutenant nodded and stuffed the battered trousers under one of the large roots. That done, she stood back up and waited patiently for me to give her an order. The Guardsman's pants fit her surprisingly well, if the shirt was a little loose. It hung in folds around her, and she had to roll the sleeves tight to the elbow.

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded vigorously. I dug an MRE out of my pack, cut it open, and handed her the softer contents. It took her a moment to open some of the tougher bags, but soon she was wolfing down the meal without a word of complaint.

"How long has it been since they fed you?"

"Three days," she mumbled between bites. "They fed us when it suited them."

"Do you know how many of them are out there?"

The lieutenant finished eating and looked at the ground. She said nothing for a minute as she considered the question.

"At least a full battalion in the main camp. I am not sure how many there are in all."

"That sounds about right."

The Space Marines formed a loose perimeter around the camp. With their enhanced bodies they did not need sleep the same way we did. I did not mind. The Guardsmen slept in a tight circle, their weapons at their sides, while the Commissar slept a few feet away. Adin was not tired, so he stayed up and spoke with Cyrus. That left me and the lieutenant.

The lieutenant was shivering as the night settled. The chilling winds ripped through her uniform as if it did not exist. Taking pity on her, I lent her an all-weather poncho to wrap up in and stood watch while she fell asleep. It was not a restful sleep. The lieutenant had barely dozed off when she began twitching and whimpering. I watched silently for a minute, knowing what she was going through. She would be having nightmares for quite a while.

With nothing to do, I sat down beside her and leaned back against a tree. Something pressed against my hip. Reaching to my side, I shifted my gear around until I found the offending object. I pulled the object, my recorder, out of its pouch and held it up to look.

Staring at it hard, I thought back to what the lieutenant had said about the foreign Astartes. As I mulled over her description I felt some slight tingle of a suppressed memory. On a whim I began searching through the databanks for the Chapter in question. _Blue and gold_. There were so many Chapters and Legions that it took me several minutes to narrow the list down. Crossing out the faithful, I concentrated on the corrupted legions. That left three choices, but I instinctively knew which one was the correct one.

The Thousand Sons. Just reading their name sent a shiver down my spine. I knew of the Thousand Sons. During my time in the Ordo Malleus I had heard of them and the unnatural powers that dwelt in them. I had never fought them, though I was curious to see what my own powers' effects would be. What information I had said that they were not mortal beings, but spirits hosted by armored shells. Killing them was even harder than killing normal Space Marines, because they had no fleshly weaknesses.

That being the case, they were held by psychic energies. Who knew how they would react when touched by the power of a Blank? If luck was on our side, my close presence might rip their souls from their shells, killing them outright with hardly any effort.

But such were the hopes of a desperate man. I studied the recorder for a while longer, committing everything to memory. She had not said how many there were, but I prayed there were not many. It was something I would have to ask when she woke. When I was done I returned the recorder to the its pouch and crossed my arms across my stomach. I knew I should be nervous, contemplating the coming engagements, but I felt oddly at peace. Again, my mood refused to agree with my state. It did not take long for me to doze off to sleep.

I woke when it was still dark. The lieutenant had stirred, and she was no longer sleeping. No, she was up and on all fours, watching him breathlessly. I thought to speak, but there was a tenseness to her body that warned me against surprising her. The night was dark, and I was so deep in shadow that I could hardly see my legs. Instead I found himself content to watch with half-closed eyes, curious to see what she why she was up.

The lieutenant crawled forward with hesitant steps, placing each hand carefully in the soft grass. She seemed afraid to wake me, for when she reached my side she froze and stared at me for a long minute. Our faces were barely a foot away, but she could not see my eyes as I slowly blinked. In time she lifted her right hand and reached across to my other side. Her foot followed, and sliding onto my legs she straddled me and leaned forward.

Her hot breath tickled my face. Leaning dangerously forward, she carefully lifted her hands from the ground and touched the sides of my face with trembling hands. When she ducked her head forward suddenly, forcing her lips against mine with a sudden violence that surprised me, I realized what she was thinking. My hands came up and grabbed her wrists, forcing them away and pushing her away. The lieutenant gasped in horror when I leaned forward, tipping her off balance and sending her sprawling onto her back.

"What are you doing" I asked quietly, releasing her hands as I did. The lieutenant scrambled off of me and onto her knees, and she pressed her forehead against my hand.

"Please, don't hit me. I was just… I was…"

Her words failed her and she pressed against me, burying her face in my hand and whimpering pitifully. I stared in amazement, unsure of what to do.

" Please, I can't sleep on my own."

"Didn't look like you were planning on sleeping."

The junior officer shivered uncontrollably. Silvery tears crept down her cheeks and she curled up against my chest, tucking herself in under my arm. I gingerly patted her shoulder, still too confused to say anything.

"They did such horrible things" she whispered, voice cracking. A heavy sob shook her and she tried to burrow tighter against me. "Every day. We did not get any sleep, we did not eat. The men took us like animals. We…"

I hugged her gently. Her crying gradually faded to a little sniffling, and she shifted herself to rest her head on my shoulder. I felt her purr in my arms.

"Nightmares" I asked. Her head rubbed against my neck when she nodded.

"I feel so cold. The only warmth I have felt was when they-"

"I understand. Get some sleep, Lieutenant. Just get some sleep."

She did not answer. A few minutes later I heard gentle snores. I fell asleep not much later.

Adin woke me up. M eyes snapped open in an instant, free arm reaching for my bolter. My comrade shook his head, a little smile on his lips.

"Got a case of fraternization going on there, Sarge?"

"Shut up."

I slowly disentangled myself from the Lieutenant's arms and stood up. She slept soundly, not waking as I gathered my gear and followed him to the rest of the scouting team. The Space Marines were nowhere in sight. Montross gave me a curt nod and glanced past us towards where I came from.

"How is the Lieutenant?"

"Tired. I'll wake her when we are ready to go."

"Wake her now. Since you insist on taking her with us, she will lead the way."

I nodded once and gestured for Adin to go fetch the young officer. Collins came up with a tin of soup, heated in a smokeless fire. It had little taste, but it was hot and filled me up. I finished it quickly and handed it back.

"How are you feeling today, Collins?"

His silence spoke volumes for how he felt. Still, he managed a weak smile when he took the tin.

The lieutenant looked much better than the previous day. She saluted the Commissar smartly, a steely determination in her gaze. Montross' cold response would have curdled milk, but she did not flinch.

"You are prepared to lead us back to the rebel's camp?"

"Yes, Commissar. I will lead you to the best of my ability."

"Good. Then let us set off. Kasrkin on point, Lieutenant walk with them. Don't get us killed."

Adin led the way forward, with me and the lieutenant fifty paces back. We had passed their first line, but we were still far enough away from the main camp to not worry about another sudden encampment to pop out of the ground.


	7. Reckoning

Between the lieutenant's guidance and Cyrus' scouts we reached the rebel's main encampment without further contact. The rebels had not seemed interested in further fortifying their position this deep into their territory. Despite the apparent lack of resistance the team grew even more cautious as they advanced further through the woods. Silent communication became the norm as the more experienced warriors exchanged hand signals in place of speech.

The lieutenant led us through the mountains on a natural footpath that they had nearly missed. The path was treacherous and slick, but no one fell as they maneuvered around the obstacles in their path.

Once on the other side they found themselves perched in the rocky crags with an unimpeded view of the rebel camp. The rebels had more or less retained the base format of laying camp, with heavy fortifications at the mouth of the valley and regularly spaced tents. The general setup of the camp looked perfectly normal. The activity within, however, had little coordination or sense of purpose. By the time I finished scouting their position with my binoculars I had gathered a distinct sense of unease about the whole place.

"Coordinates locked" Adin announced, setting his targeter down. "We just need to call it in and watch the show."

"Not that easy," I grunted. Glancing back over our shoulders, I tried to pick out the rest of the team. They had remained higher up the peak, safely out of detection range. I showed him my recorder, indicating a flashing red circle on the upper corner. "Signal's cut off. They've got a jammer up."

"Shite. Can you spot it?"

I played the video taken from the binoculars several times, zooming in the image to scour the camp. Few antenna stood out, and I recognized them easily enough. No electronic jamming equipment could be seen. The signal block had to be coming from the large shelter on the other side of the valley. The rebels had a heavy guard around it. The jammer had to be in there.

"No," I said, putting the recorder away in disgust. "My money's on that shelter though. It looks big enough to house a ship."

"The alien ship?" Adin picked up his sniper rifle and examined the shelter. He nodded silently in confirmation of his thought. "Their whole camp is centered on that spot. Notice the concentric rings?"

"Whiteshields, regulars, stormtroopers," I said. "These guys seem more focused on protecting that shelter than defending their camp."

"Definitely Chaos then. What do you think is down there?"

"Light transport, perhaps? Ordo Malleus's records on the Thousand Sons indicate they don't go around in large numbers. Something about the need for a sorcerer to control them. What do you figure, three squads?"

"Maybe." Adin crouched a little lower behind cover. "Either way, this is not something we should mess with. Let's finish this up and get back to the team."

I scanned the base one more time, focusing on each point of interest to ensure we got solid footage. Once Adin and I had finished pinpointing locations of interest and mapping them to the recorder we gathered our gear and started climbing back up to the team. They waited patiently as we made our report.

"And you saw no sign of the Traitors themselves" Cyrus asked when we finished.

"Just a giant shelter large enough to hide a transport. That's where they would be though. The concentration of firepower guarding that shelter is a pretty clear indicator."

"Did you see what is jamming communications?"

"Must be the ship. They did not have any heavy duty comm gear in sight."

"The 1st and 3rd were line companies" Montross said. "They had no supportive communications gear."

"Any special units?"

"We have no mutants on Uthreme" the commissar snapped, eyes glinting dangerously. "Our bloodline is pure."

"I meant sniper teams, kill squads, recon elements. Do they have anything that could have been watching us?"

"No. They had simple infantry. The 3rd had a company of armored attached, but you saw what happened to them."

Cyrus raised his rifle to steal our attention. "You are going to ask for an orbital bombardment," he said, correctly guessing my thoughts.

"They are well defended. The only good route into the valley is guarded by dozens of bunkers and fortified emplacements. Armored columns would be torn to ribbons and infantry would get slaughtered. The Uthreme Guard does not have enough men to attempt such an assault."

"They are fortified," Cyrus agreed. "But their camp will soon have fewer troops in it. My commander and the loyalist forces have launched an offensive against the rebels. At the rate they are being driven back it is safe to assume they will call for reinforcements if they have not already."

"That camp did look a little sparse" Adin muttered, speaking only to me.

I opened the recorder and started shifting through the footage again, paying closer attention to the number of troops in camp. It was nearing noon. The troops would be out of their tents at this point, eating, training, or lounging about. There was still a good amount of soldiers about, but not enough to make more than two companies worth of troops. The bulk of the battalion must have already moved out.

"You're probably right" I said. Cyrus took the recorder and examined it, his face expressionless. After a minute he handed it back.

"So what's the plan?"

"If the camp is this lightly defended, we have a golden opportunity here. If we land a contingent of my comrades in the camp we can cut the traitors off and annihilate them between our forces."

Commissar Montross glanced over to the Lieutenant. She had remained mostly silent over the past day, and the strain of being so near the camp showed on her face. The tattered uniform jacket she had worn had fallen apart over the march, leaving her in a stained undershirt and trousers. At one point on the march we had found a small fresh water spring and she had cleaned herself up a bit, so the majority of the dirt and grime was gone from her skin. She truly had a beautiful face, the kind that left many of the simpler Guardsmen staring when they thought no one was watching. She knew, of course. Over the course of the march I kept up small talk to distract her from the horrors she had suffered. The lieutenant had grown up in a small noble family that lived on an estate north of the capitol. When the Valkyrie's Fist unit had been formed her father purchased her commission for her. Three months ago she had been a civilian.

"You know the layout of the camp, lieutenant?"

Jara nodded curtly. She stood by my side, wrapping one arm around mine, and watched the recording.

"We cannot call in an orbital bombardment or reinforcements until we take out the jammer. Do you know where it is?"

"The ship."

No one appeared surprised. Looking to Cyrus for advice, I jerked my thumb in the direction we came from.

"My vote is we retreat out of jamming range and call it in from there."

"By the time we do that the traitors might return to their camp."

I shrugged carelessly, not seeing a problem. "So we blow them to hell from orbit. Problem solved."

"If there are Thousand Sons down there, we will need confirmation that they are destroyed," Cyrus said. "And any chance we have to scour the traitor's ship for information could give us some advantage in the future."

"The plan, then?"

Cyrus indicated the lieutenant with his rifle.

"You will draw us a map of the traitor camp. Mark all locations of interest, command headquarters, and supply caches. Come nightfall, we will advance into the camp and make our way to the ship. Once the jammer is down I will call in the coordinates for reinforcements."

Montross shot a sidelong glance at the Guardsmen squad. Looking back to Cyrus, he cleared his throat and addressed the Space Marine.

"That is doable."

"This will be a multi-pronged infiltration. My scout squad will take the task of destroying the jammer. Your Guardsmen will split up into teams and place demo charges at key locations provided by the lieutenant. A successive chain of explosions will disorient those still in camp and make an all-out assault much more likely to succeed."

_More likely to succeed_. The casual reference to the suicidal plan made me smile darkly. I had heard that far too many times in the past. Of course Cyrus did not expect the regular humans to make it. One squad of Space Marines could pull it off. One squad of Guardsmen… if three survived they would be lucky. There would be so many rounds flying through the air once the shooting started.

Not that arguing would get anything done. Sighing under my breath, I bobbed my head respectfully and steered Jara away from the group.

"We'll get you a map then."

"Meet us at the fall-back point in two hours," Montross ordered. "We have plenty of time to prepare this one. Don't mess it up."

Adin went to follow us, but something caused him to stop. He nodded subtly and walked off, leaving Jara and me alone. His hardwired radio channel cut off in my ear. I stared back after him, confused, but Jara tugged on my arm and led me off to a secluded spot to work on the map.

"And that's the battalion headquarters."

I marked the location on the recorder. Using my recorder footage I had created a rough sketch of the layout of the camp. Jara filled in the details, pointing out the important locations. She had a remarkable memory for one who had been through so much. Every company headquarters was marked, the larger bunkers and ammunition depots located, and even the position of the guard posts. With the information she had, we could plot out routes through the camp.

"That's everything I know. We did not see much of the camp."

She shrank back as if she had disappointed me, but I offered an encouraging smile.

"You did good, Lieutenant. That's a lot more than we knew to start out with. I know it's got to be hard thinking about that place."

Jara shivered and leaned against my shoulder. Her eyes were red.

"I don't want to go back down there" she said, her voice little more than a whisper. Jara took the recorder from my hand and set it off to the side. I did not pull back as she shifted over to sit on my lap and curl up against my armor. Purring softly, Jara rested her head against my neck and closed her eyes.

"You don't have to go back if you don't want to. When the time comes, you can wait at the fall-back point."

"You've been good to me, Leon. You chose to bring me along despite everything. I won't leave you to go into that camp alone."

"It will be dangerous."

She looked up at me, a faint smile on her lips. Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss on my lips and shook her head.

"Not if I stay with you. You're going to go down there and kill those bastards, but you'll need a guide to help you know where to look. I know where they go, what horrible things they do in the dark places of their camp. And I want to be there when you tear their hearts out."

Her eyes flashed darkly all of the sudden, adopting an angry gaze I had not seen before. Something foreign and dangerous swirled in the midst of her raging eyes, and my gut turned to ice. The sudden wave of anger in her voice did not come from Jara. It came from the unholy light gleaming behind her eyes. She was tainted.

Stunned, I pulled her head down to my shoulder and stared into the sky. Unaware of my sudden discovery, and of the taint herself, Jara heaved a sigh.

"Get some sleep then. We move as the night falls."

Jara nodded off in minutes, too tired to pass up the opportunity. After ensuring she would not wake I shifted her over onto the ground and stood. My hands trembled. I hurried off to join Adin and the Guardsmen, licking my lips nervously as I did. By the God Emperor, we did not need this. Too many thoughts warred in my head. Too many possibilities had just opened up. Was she truly evil, luring us in to a trap? Was she tainted unknowingly? Had her escape been aided by a blind eye?

That last thought stopped me cold. A chill shook my spine, and I felt the first twinge of fear since landing on this cursed planet. A trap. Caught in a trap with a battalion of Guardsmen and Thousand Sons. This was one we would not be walking out of.

I hid my distress as I joined the Guardsmen, but Adin picked it up right away. After exchanging a few polite words with the Guardsmen we walked off a distance for privacy. Adin said nothing for a long moment, but he took off his helmet so I could look him in the eye.

"What's eating you, Leon?"

It took me a moment to find my voice.

"She's tainted."

My comrade stared at me blankly for a moment. "She's… oh. Shit."

He reached around his back and unhooked a canteen from his pack. I took the canteen and took a swig without stopping to say thanks. Mycean whiskey.

"What are you going to do?"

"Hell if I know, Adin." I took one more drink before handing it back. That kind of alcohol did not come cheap. I was not going to waste it all. "But it's not what I'm going to do that worries me."

"How bad is she?"

"I don't know. She might not know about it yet, or she's playing us like a fiddle."

Adin shook his head. "I haven't been getting any negative vibes around her. Tainted, sure. Trying to screw us over, no. Well, maybe trying to screw y-"

I shot him a murderous glare. He shrugged.

"Force of habit."

"What are we going to do? If this is a trap…"

"It's not."

The certainty in his voice calmed some of my worry. Adin gently pried my hand off of my bolter's grip.

"Don't worry about her. We've got more important thanks to think about."

"Have the teams been made?"

"Three-man teams. Commissar is taking two, I've got two, you've got the LT and Collins."

"We can't leave her behind, can we?"

"Nope." My companion cracked a cheerful smile. "Come on, what's the worst that could happen? Death?"

"Team 2, this is Team 1. Beginning infiltration. Check that sentry."

The sentry collapsed in a heap, a knife buried in his chest. I breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the traitors were walking unarmored. The slack-nasty scum provided easy targets. Even as I watched the other two teams slipped into the void and entered camp. My team followed close behind, maintaining enough distance to not draw attention. Few traitors were up and about at this time of night. Those that were reeked of alcohol and fouler smells. As long as we kept quiet, we would not face much trouble.

The lieutenant and sergeant stayed close behind me, adopting suitable stances for our march. The unease radiating from Jara made my skin crawl, but she played her part well. I could not imagine how terrifying this was for her. Terrifying, or exciting. It took a lot of my composure to not flinch at the thought of having her behind me. If she was an enemy, she could kill me before I responded.

Collins did little more than follow my footsteps as we walked. His face was set in an odd grimace, as if he had swallowed something bitter and choked it back up. I shared the feeling, but I did not let it show.

We reached the first point, a small aluminum awning covering a company's worth of heavy weapons. The appeared disused and ill-maintained. That did not surprise me. Once the taint settled in, boring, stationary equipment lost appeal. If this taint truly came from Khorne I would not be surprised to find them fighting bare-handed. I did not bother hiding the charge. No one would find it.

The farther we walked into camp, the worse our surroundings became. Tents fell about raggedly, men stumbled incoherently from worse things than alcohol. Several fights raged around us as crazed men beat each other for the most petty matters. We heard no screaming though. No women's cries.

On a whim, I turned to Jara and pulled her closer. "Take me to your comrades. Let's see if we can get them out."

She nodded and pointed meekly to my left. Collins made a face, but when I started walking he fell into step behind me.

"We don't have time for this" Collins muttered, looking around nervously. "We need to set that other charge."

"Do you remember the layout" I asked. He nodded. Satisfied, I tossed him the last charge. "Then go set it. Meet us at the rally point."

He vented a heavy sigh and hefted the charge. I did not stop to watch if he headed off on his own or kept following. It did not matter. I wanted to find if any women survived. If even one of them was left, uncorrupted, it would be worth it.

"There" Jara said, indicating a fenced-off partition in the camp. The space was not large, but the walls were high and covered in barbed wire. I did not see anyone standing up. Or sitting. There were some bodies lying in the mud. "Emperor save them."

The lieutenant broke past me, rushing to the fence with sob. I followed at a slow pace, my head on a swivel for enemies. No one showed. Jara ran alongside the fence, rattling the chains and hissing names. When she finally made it back around her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Those bastards" she cried, shaking like a leaf. "Emperor, they killed them all. They're all dead."

Remaining silent, I went up to the small gate and ripped the lock off. The gate swung inwards, creaking on rusty hinges. A tangle of dead bodies covered the floor from fence to fence, twisted and scored by laser wounds. Numerous marks on the fence pointed to las fire.

"Used them for target practice" I muttered, disgusted. Jara slipped past me and knelt beside one of the bodies. I could not understand what she said, but I understood the way her body trembled. Through the bloodied mess of mud and blood I caught a glimpse of dirty blonde hair and familiar eyes.

"Your sister? I'm sorry, Jara."

She looked up slowly. Her eyes were red, raging like fire. I took an instinctive step back and tightened my grip on the bolter. For a long moment she just stared at me.

"Kill them" she growled.

"Jara?"

"Them."

Harsh laughter echoed from behind us. I turned and brought my rifle up. A cluster of Guardsmen approached, staggering drunkenly. Four of them. They had spotted us.

"Get behind me lieutenant."

They reached the gate before she stood up. The lead one strutted forward, balancing unevenly on a broken leg. The shin bone jutted out to the side, clearly snapped in half. The man did not appear to notice. Their eyes burned with a similar fire that I had seen in Jara's gaze. They leered at Jara without a hint of subtlety. My finger twitched on the trigger of the bolter.

"There's a live one" the lead man sneered. He stopped a foot away and leaned to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Jara. She pressed close behind me, but her hand reached for the pistol on my hip. "I don't remember her being around."

"Take a walk trooper," I said. He laughed and pushed me. The skin on his hand had cracked and peeled away, replaced by grotesque scales.

"You should share her, shine-job. Sure she can handle us all at once. The other ones did."

Jara snarled.

"Go the hell, bastard."

"Such tongue. I can think of better ways to use that."

He lunged forward, aiming to shove me aside. I caught him by the throat and shoved him away. He sprawled in the mud.

"Hands off, slop-bucket."

I started walking towards the gate. The other three cut in front of me, murder in their eyes.

"Out of our way, you shit. We want the girl."

They shuffled forward. Jara grabbed for my bolter. It fired. The sudden explosion of gunfire startled everyone. One of the men dropped, his chest torn open. I did not hesitate. Switching targets, I hosed down the other two in rapid fire bursts that cut them down. Jara did not let go of my arm until the last body hit the ground. Voices started up in the distance, alerted by the noise.

I shrugged Jara off of my arm and rounded on her.

"The hell, lieutenant? You just blew this op."

The smoldering fire in her eyes told me she did not care. Rushing past me, she delivered a string of brutal kicks to the first one. I had to pull her off.

"Come on, we need to move."

It took her a minute, but she settled down and we ran. People were up, some armed, some not. Shots were fired in all directions, mainly las rounds. Somewhere in the mix I heard bolter fire. So much for the plan.

Six Guardsmen ran into view, looking around and shooting wildly. They caught sight of another group, stopped, and started shooting. The other group returned fire. Before we passed at least four had fallen, and the rest were charging for melee combat. I considered putting a shot or two into the group, but that would draw attention.

Massive explosions rocked the valley. Six gouts of flame erupted in the night sky, bathing the camp in a hellish light.

"Aw shit. We've got to get to the rendezvous point."

The rendezvous point was a battlefield. Montross and Adin had their teams at the edge of the stormtrooper tents. They were engage in a pitched fight with a motley company of traitor Guardsmen. Several were down, but more were arriving from all directions. This was not the plan, not by a long shot.

We rushed to the group, dodging scattered shots on the way. A pair of stormtroopers lurched to intercept us, limping on half-formed legs and slimy tentacles. I took each one down with a single shot to their uncovered faces. Gore splattered on my boots, but I did not slow down.

"About time" Adin said, speaking calmly despite the battle raging around us. I saw his sniper rifle raise on the far side of the group before he dropped a brutish traitor Guardsman. Another took his place, then another. "Where's Collins?"

"I thought he was here" I snapped, diving into cover beside on the prone Guardsmen. He was not shooting. Frustrated, I shook his shoulder. The man's head lolled to the side, eyes wide and dull. His throat was a mass of blood and burns. "The Astartes?"

"Hell if I know. I heard something a minute ago. I think they went off on their own to tackle the ship."

"And we're the bait." I grunted angrily. A round skimmed off my armor, deflecting into the body of the man at my side. "Screw this."

I stood up, not caring that the air was filled with zapping rounds. Two of the storm troopers still had the sanity to set up an autocannon. I gunned them down without a second thought, tearing them to shreds. It felt good, real good.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding better cover. Charge."

Adin followed without hesitation. The Guardsmen chased after us, shouting and shooting like madmen. Jara had disappeared somewhere in the fray. Not that it mattered, she had not been holding a weapon. I signed her off as dead, bit back the bile in my throat, and kept running. Mourning could come later. Right now we had to-

A hulking armored form stood before us as we passed the last tent. It stood several feet over us, clad in bright, unblemished armor of blue and yellow. No one needed to ask what it was. The reflectionless black visor stared down at us. My tongue clung to the roof of my mouth, shock overcoming my adrenaline. Blue and yellow.

The traitor Marine's helmet tilted forward to better regard us. I did not meet its visor, but kept my attention on the gleaming bolter in its hands. The bolter started to turn towards us, moving so slowly it felt like a dream. A hollow, metallic voice rasped out from the Marine's helmet. "All. Is. Dust."

The slow turn snapped into a blinding jerk and fire tore into our team. I dove to the side, wincing as men screamed behind me. The thunderous boom of Adin's sniper rifle rocked the traitor Marine back on its heels. It started to face him, but by that point I was steady on one knee. I unleashed a long, concentrated burst into the Marine's upper body. Several rounds ricocheted and bounced off, repelled by a psychic barrier. Several punched through after prolonged fire, blasting gaping holes in the Marine's armor. No blood spilled. The Marine calmly fired on Adin, ignoring me completely.

My finger left the trigger only when the clip ran dry. The Marine had so many holes in his armor I could nearly see the sky. Yet it did not appear bothered in the least. Its steady fire kept Adin at bay, chasing him through the tents as he desperately tried to stay ahead of the fearsome hail of lead.

I swapped magazines in a heartbeat, but I did not fire. Reaching to a side pouch, I grabbed a melta-bomb and armed it. Montross shouted for my attention, but I had already decided. The bolter hit the ground with a dull thud and I charged.

The Commissar beat me to the Marine, striking with his sword in an ineffectual attempt to do damage. It would not be enough. The Marine broke his spine with a casual backhanded swipe. Montross fell, keeling over in a ragged heap. That brief respite was all Adin needed, and he peeked out from cover to put a round through the Marine's bolter. The weapon exploded in a hail of shards and micro-explosions as the bolt ammunition cooked off. The traitor Marine staggered, but did not panic. It could not. It was a mere shell.

That was fine by me. A standing target was an easy target. Stopping just short of the Marine, I rolled the melta-bomb under its feet and leapt back. The grenade exploded, vaporizing the traitor's lower body in a flash of heat and fire.

The Marine tumbled to the ground, but it was hardly finished. Picking itself up with mechanical precision, the Marine stood awkwardly on a half-gone leg and hip. It drew a bolt pistol from its side. The Marine turned around to take aim at me.

"For the Emperor!"

A body flew out from one of the tents, clad in storm trooper armor. The storm trooper rushed the teetering traitor Marine with a krak grenade in each hand. I watched dumbfounded as the trooper kicked the bolt pistol out of the Marine's hand and shoved both grenades in the gap between the helmet and overlapping shoulder pads.

The trooper leapt back, but not in time to avoid the explosion. The shockwave lifted him off his feet and hurled him at my feet. I did not hesitate, but yanked the helmet off and shoved my sidearm in the man's face.

Collins gazed up at me, eyes wide.

"Don't shoot. It's me."

I stared at him in wonder, eyeing his new armor in suspicion. Traitors' armor. What was he thinking?

"No time to play" Adin shouted. I looked up to see another traitor Marine lumbering towards us. He had a heavy bolter.

"Got anymore grenades?"

Collins shook his head. "That's all I had."

A hail of fire struck the traitor Marine in the side. An armored Marine scout rumbled past us, firing a shotgun as fast as he could. The traitor swayed, fighting to regain its balance. The heavy bolter started firing, spraying all over.

Blood and armor exploded out of the scout's back. The scout staggered, but he did not stop. The traitor Marine steadied his aim. Dozens of rounds punched through the scout. A holistic cry rang out across the battlefield and he hurled himself onto the Marine. I saw a grenade in his hand. The resulting explosion engulfed both scout and traitor. When the smoke cleared only bits and pieces of armor remained.

"Shit. Keep moving. Just a little farther."

One lone Guardsmen remained with us. The towering cover for the ship stood only fifty feet away. A third traitor Marine stood by the entrance, staring impassively from his position. He had a towering force pike. I studied the traitor Marine carefully, out of options. Nothing at hand would take it down.

Shouts and screams came from our left. A brutal fight spilled out of the tents, propelled by a shrieking dervish. All eyes turned for a moment, surprised. Lieutenant Jara fought off five men at once, a chainsword in each hand. She whirled, thrust, leapt and hacked with abandon, cackling madly as she did. Blood and gore splashed across her shirt, drenched in the lifeblood of many men. There was no trace of the scared lieutenant I had known.

All five men fell before her. She looked at us, froth dripping from her lips, and howled. I thought she would charge, but she took off for the traitor Marine. The Marine had yet to twitch since spotting us. In her crazed state I doubted she recognized the danger of the Marine. She would not stand a chance.

Before I realized it I was charging after her. Adin called out after me, cursing me for being a fool. His sniper rifle began firing. Las fire erupted behind us. My bolter joined the cacophony. Collins. I had not weapons but my pistol and the half-sharpened cane-stick. Too late to back down now.

Jara dove for the traitor Marine, spinning both blades in a vicious arc. The Marine flicked his force weapon out, catching her chainswords easily. His pistol came up, planting square against her forehead. I fired.

The first round punched into its arm, jerking the pistol to the side. The second shot exploded harmlessly against its shoulder. One more got through. Another missed. It turned to face me, shoving Jara aside with ease. The force pike whipped towards my chest, aiming to cut me in half. There was no time to dodge. It was going to cut me in half. Firing helplessly, I swung my cane-stick at the weapon.

The purplish glow of the force pike drained away. It struck me head on, lifting me off the ground and hurling me aside. My pistol flew off into the darkness. My cracked rib broke again. But I was alive.

Stunned, I scrambled to my feet and held the cane-stick like a sword. The force pike shimmered again, held defensively before the traitor Marine as he studied me. The fire had returned. It had not killed me, the weapon's power had faded for that brief instant. Was that-

"Fuck me" I said, cursing under my breath. So that was another perk of being a Blank. Jara stirred weakly. I heard a sickening moan. Still alive. The traitor Marine gave me no time to rejoice, because he charged, pike leading. I dodged to the side, pushed back off the ground, and threw myself onto the traitor's arm before he could sweep back with his force pike.

Lightning crackled along the Marine's armor. The traitor jerked away, punching me in the side, but the blow came weakly and barely did any damage. The arm fell away, tumbling empty to the ground. Without bothering to wait I struck the Marine with his fallen glove and jumped at its face. The traitor replied in turn, crushing me to the ground, but his joints fell free. An empty helmet smashed into my face, rolled off, and I was stuck under a hollow shell of Astartes armor.

The battle raged around me. Adin and Collins retreated into view, weapons darting back and forth as they exchanged fire with the traitor Guardsmen. Cyrus and his scouts stood with them, moving towards the ship in an orderly but hurried fashion. One of the scouts broke off and shoved the armor aside, freeing me from its pressing weight.

"We must destroy the jammer" Cyrus said. "Do you have any demolitions charges remaining?"

"One."

"We will need it."

I grabbed the nearest weapon, the traitor Marine's force pike. Abandoning the fight, we rushed into the giant domed tent. The ship bore all of my expectations. Crashed, half-buried in the dirt, adorned in gothic structure and painted in gaudy blue and yellow. Three traitor Marines stood before us. Two wore the plain Astartes armor. The other wore a blood red armor decorated in too many devices and ornaments. He carried a large staff in his hands. A sorcerer.

No one hesitated. A flurry of sniper fire from the scouts tore the first Marine's helmet from his shoulders, leaving the Marine headless. That hardly slowed it down as it and its companion rumbled forward, returning fire with their bolters. A grenade landed at their feet, exploded, knocked them to the ground. They got back up, none the worse for wear.

Another scout fell, his armor shredded and torn. Slipping out from behind him, I launched myself at the closest of the Marine's and struck it in the helm. The force pike sputtered weakly as it fought to fuel the dampened flames on the blade. Extending the pike a little, I pushed the head out of reach and cleaved through the traitor's armor. The armored shell fell to pieces, its soul destroyed.

The other Marine fell, but not before it shoulder-charged Adin. He disappeared under the crumbling bulk, vanishing from sight. There was no time to help him. Turning to the lone traitor, the sorcerer, Cyrus and I charged.

Or, I charged. Cyrus and his remaining scouts opened a torrent of fire on the Warp-twisted madman. He held up his hand, projecting a shield that stop their shots, and pointed with his staff. A wave of cascading lightning leapt out at us. I dove in the way, preparing for pain. The lightning struck me and exploded, washing over and around me like foam. The pain faded. The sorcerer glared at me. His staff came up again. Cyrus put a round through his hand.

The sorcerer howled, whipping his staff around to blast the Astartes scouts. The explosion of energy knocked me off my feet. I heard screams. Then Cyrus's voice crackled in my ear.

"Destroy the jammer, Kasrkin. That is all that matters."

The sorcerer turned back to me, eyeing me with undisguised loathing. Abandoning his staff, he drew a monstrous plasma pistol from a holster. He strode closer, sneering at my pathetic attempt to stand and face him. The force pike swayed in my grasp, too heavy for my hands. I would not be able to stand against him in close combat.

At ten paces I caught sight of something behind him. The ship's communications tower. It was within reach of the ground, unprotected. I just needed to get past the sorcerer.

Not that he seemed to agree. He fired, sending a hissing green shot splashing past my leg. Rolling to the side, I came up on my feet and hefted the pike. Lifting it over my shoulder, I hurled the weapon with all my strength. The pike sliced through the air, spinning perfectly as it cut towards the sorceror's chest. The raging psychic power flared and whipped from the blade. It would pierce the traitor's armor with ease. Nothing stopped a force weapon. Nothing except-

The sorcerer stepped to the side, dodging the attack with contemptuous ease. The pike sailed through the air, carrying my hopes with it as it missed its target. For a horrified moment I found myself staring at the red-hot barrel of his pistol.

A small explosion rocked the ship. The force pike struck home in a different target; it sliced the antennae from the communications tower. Static washed over the vox. Suddenly I could hear Colonel Mars on the line. He was not speaking to me, but addressing some commander or another.

"Drive those traitors back into their own camp. Captain Temin, order the armored column forward. By the Emperor, we have them now."

"Colonel Mars."

The sorcerer fired, and I ducked. He fired again, I could not dodge. The plasma glanced off of my armor, burning through to my forearm. White-hot pain lanced through my body and I fell. A third shot turned the ground at my feet to slag. Specks of plasma sprayed across my face. I screamed.

"Where is your God-Emperor now" the sorcerer mocked, boots crunching to a stop beside my face. I could not see him through the pain and blood. "My, what are you? A Pariah? A Blank? You would be an interesting one to study."

"I… bite… bastard."

"It matters not" the sorcerer huffed. "My time here is finished. The knowledge I sought fled this forsaken world long ago. But before I leave, a reward for your troubles."

The barrel of his pistol pressed against the back of my head. Searing pain filled my skull. I dimly felt the heat of the barrel burning my hair.

"Beg for mercy, pathetic worm."

A gut-wrenching shriek rose in the air. Something crashed through the tent ceiling. A heavy impact rocked the ground, bouncing me in the air and knocking the sorcerer's pistol away. Then a wave of dust billowed over us, and his armored hulk disappeared from view. I started crawling away, inching towards the fallen force pike. A heavy boot stomped on my leg, pinning me down.

"This is not over. I will have your head, you witless-"

A dozen bolters opened fire around us. The boot twitched and slid along my leg, shifting as its owner was riddled. A soft sigh echoed in my ears and the boot fell away. The sorcerer's pistol landed by my face.

The tramp of heavily-armored soldiers sounded all around me. A shadow fell across my face.

"This one is still alive" a voice growled. I recognized the voice from somewhere. One of the Blood Ravens. They had arrived in time.

"Indeed."

Cyrus's voice cut through the swirling noise. An armored knee plate landed on the dirt beside me and the sniper rolled me onto my back. It hurt to open my eyes. Wheezing harshly, I cleared my throat.

"Did we win?"

"The fight is not over, Kasrkin. There is still much to be done."

Surprisingly tender arms scooped me off the ground. Cyrus's eye glittered with admiration as he carried me over to the two other survivors. Collins and Adin sat together, swaying in the soothing night wind. The sound of battle had escalated outside. I could make out the sounds of many bolters, plasma weaponry, and flamers. The Blood Ravens had arrived.

"There's the ballsy sonuvabitch." Adin waved half-heartedly at me, a vicious cut marring his otherwise cheerful smile. I grinned weakly and collapsed beside him.

"Never again," I said. My body hurt all over. "Blast. We're it?"

A small, beaten canteen landed on my lap.

"We were lucky," Collins said. He crawled to my side and gestured to the canteen. "I can't believe we survived that. Did you see those Marines?"

"Traitor Marines" I corrected, noting the way the nearest Marine glanced our way. "They were traitors, Collins."

"Aye."

I took a cautious sip from the canteen. Adin's whiskey. I did not feel so bad for draining the whole thing this time. He did not seem to mind, but produced a similar canteen when I handed his back empty.

"So… they're all dead." Collins flinched, looking back towards the camp. Montross's body could be picked out from the mayhem, his repulsor boots keeping his feet neatly off the ground. Adin chuckled dryly. "Dibs on the boots."

"If you want to go get them."

I looked across the camp, watching the flickering light of muzzle flashes brighten the night sky. The shattered armor of the traitor Marines littered the short field between the tents. Jara had fallen… there. By the Emperor, she was still alive.

Motioning quickly to Adin, I pointed to her. "Get me over there."

Adin sighed and slung my arm over his shoulder. She was shaking, tears streaming down her face. One of the chainswords sputtered weakly in her hands, gears caught on bits of armor. My stomach lurched unsteadily at the gaping wound across her gut. Her organs lay bare to the night, spilling over each other through her protective hand.

"Leon."

Setting me down gently, Adin took his leave and retreated to the safety of the tent. I did my best to sit up.

"Hey lieutenant. You'll be okay. You did good out there."

"It's inside me" she whimpered. A shiver wracked her body and she coughed. Blood splattered on her chin. "Emperor, I can feel it. I don't want to die."

"Don't think about that. You have nothing to worry about."

Jara grabbed at my arm. Desperation choked her voice as she sobbed.

"Please. I don't want to die like this. I don't want to die tainted. Emperor- uhh- protect. Me."

"Shh. It's okay, Jara. He hears you." I slipped my arm behind her neck and held her close. Her chest heaved pathetically, gasping for air even as it fled through her punctured lungs. She would be dead in a few minutes. There was no help for her. "He'll protect you."

"I love the Emperor" she said, her voice little more than a whisper. Seeking fingers found my jaw. Holding on desperately, she shifted her head to look up and gave me a teary smile. "I've always served him. You… you know that, right?"

"Yeah, Jara. I know. I know you love him."

"Then hold me. Just a little longer, please. I don't want to die alone."

The shooting slowed as the traitors were driven out of the camp. Soon after came the thundering boom of ordinance explosions as the armored columns pushed them back in. In an hour the firing ceased. A little while later the rumbling tread of a Chimera could be heard. Colonel Mars's personal transport drove into view, leading a platoon of storm troopers. Cradling Jara's limp body close, I watched the colonel disembark. His cape had fresh holes in it and his power sword still dripped.

"We won, Jara." I offered her sightless eyes a smile. Leaning down, I kissed her forehead and gave her one last hug. "The Emperor won."

I slipped her dog tags around my neck. When we got back to the capitol I would add them to my collection of fallen comrades.

Adin and Collins sat down beside me, looking only slightly better than before. The Commissar's boots knocked together as Adin dropped them off. They looked at the dead lieutenant and grimaced.

"Guess it wasn't a trap then."

Collins shot me a quizzical look. Ignoring the question, I set the lieutenant down. "So, what are you going to do now, sergeant?"

"My unit's gone. I don't know. Get shuffled in somewhere else, I guess."

Adin inspected his stolen storm trooper armor with a critical eye.

"Where'd you pick this up?"

"Found a storage tent. They had a couple sets in unopened crates. I figured it wouldn't hurt to put one on."

"Good thinking." Adin's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Good handling of that traitor Marine too. You handled it like a pro."

The young sergeant blushed meekly. "It was nothing, really."

"You bull-rushed a traitor Marine without a weapon."

He shrugged. "It felt right."

His answer seemed to satisfy Adin. I did not like the smile that spread across his face. Bracing myself for the worst, I waited for Adin to reveal whatever devilry was turning in his head.

"You know, Leon, were we ever told not to recruit?"

I groaned inwardly. "No, we weren't."

Collins's eyes widened a touch. Seeing his confusion, Adin slapped him on the shoulder and offered him a friendly grin. The grin faded a moment later as he winced.

"Well then, sergeant. How would you like to join the Emperor's most holy Inquisition?"

This time I groaned out loud. Not wanting to hear how this played out, I pulled myself to my feet and staggered off towards the Colonel. He would want a report. They always wanted a report.


End file.
